<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Third Eye by ramel</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252706">Third Eye</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramel/pseuds/ramel'>ramel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Trauma, Dreamscapes, Family Dynamics, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Harm to Children, Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Starscourge (Final Fantasy XV), Starscourge-Infected Noctis Lucis Caelum, selective mutism, traumatic mutism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:40:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>88,036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252706</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramel/pseuds/ramel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're confident he's not making it up?"<br/>“Do you expect me to do nothing? He was so frightened this morning."<br/>"He's three, Regis."</p><p> </p><p>Noctis has an imaginary friend.</p><p>Updates monthly</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ardyn Izunia &amp; Noctis Lucis Caelum, Noctis Lucis Caelum &amp; Regis Lucis Caelum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>284</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All my adoration to the people who pushed me to start posting. This would still be rotting on my computer without ya'll motivating me.</p><p>Tags will be added as the story updates.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“I was to be king you know.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis was born just as Regis received word of his car’s safe arrival to the repair shop. Aulea passed out from exhaustion, leaving him to unsuccessfully calm their newborn’s cries. He eventually came around to them both, after a lengthy, shared rest.</p><p>For two years, they were effortless. Aulea and Regis expressed their gratitude at having such an agreeable child that allowed for them to sleep through the night. Noctis met his milestones, babbled socially, and was said by all his nursemaids to be the calmest child they’ve ever handled. The most willful of them joked with Aulea how Regis presented far more boldly, persistently taking matters into his own hands when he didn’t get his way, “just like any other Lucis Caelum”.</p><p>Not that Noctis held none of his predecessors traits. Rather, his own sense of taking charge was based in peculiar bouts of exploration, crawling alongside the walls and delighting at finding doors to a new room – no mater how many times he had discovered it.</p><p>Noctis was healthy. Aulea was not.</p><p>As Noctis’ third year approached, as he began to form his first proper sentences, the damage that Aulea received in childbirth finally caught up to her. Regis needed the open casket, tradition be damned. He wouldn’t deny himself one last look at her, one last touch. During her rites, however, his grief was turned to a sense of personal culpability by his son’s anguished wails, eyes transfixed and arms reaching towards his mother’s unresponsive body even as he was taken away to skip the ceremony.</p><p>While still easy to put down, Noctis’ caretakers were quick to note the increasing irritation he greeted them with following the queen’s passing. His pervasively warm personality now waxed and waned in spite of their desire to restore it to its previous consistency.</p><p>Regis devoted whatever instances he had between mourning and ruling – the country couldn’t wait on him, after all – to Noctis. He followed the rules of play Noctis chose for them, read any book pulled from the shelf, and reminded him whenever the tears returned that Aulea still loved them as dearly as when she lived.</p><p>-</p><p>At first, he suspected Noctis had started a game of sorts. The latest in an ongoing line of imaginary scenarios he would introduce to Regis from day to day. Perhaps he had finally christened a name to the stuffed tonberry he dragged lovingly across the citadel floors wherever he went.</p><p>Noctis let out a soft groan at the contact of Regis’ hand rolling over his shoulder, coaxing him awake. His features pinched, ignoring the “good morning” Regis gave him in favor of reaching blindly for the plush that had long since tumbled to the floor. A giveaway of his true level of wakefulness, which Regis could attest to, having checked in to see Noctis stirring prior to preparing himself for the day. His encouragement, all the same, was met with a displeased sound.</p><p>“It’s a pity you’ll be staying in bed.” He suggested. Regis made an intentionally halfhearted attempt at pulling Noctis from the sheets, feeling him deadweight under his hands. Entertained, he smiled as he added;</p><p>“I’ve been informed your favorite was made this morning, but I suppose I’ll have to eat everything myself-“</p><p>He was cut off by a squeal. Noctis’ neutral expression erupted into a grin, eyes still shut tight when he grabbed Regis by the sleeve. He pressed his face into it, unable to hide his laughter.</p><p>“Ready?”</p><p>Noctis nodded, making a tugging motion for Regis to lift him. He did so dutifully, bending lower so Noctis could grab the fallen tonberry as well.</p><p>Days like this were a luxury. Regis appreciated having servants to handle the brunt of childcare, but he relished the normalcy of mornings when he could do the job of dressing and guiding Noctis himself. Eating breakfast with him was completely out of the question for the most part, but Regis had made the effort to do so today. After putting Noctis to bed the night before, another luxury, he was back to reviewing the foreign intelligence passed to him for the following council meeting. Non-urgent matters, thankfully, but the sort of thing that would otherwise occupy his early morning if he forewent it for extra rest.</p><p>It was an easy choice to make, how he’d rather start his day.</p><p>Having finished his attempt to bury himself into Regis’ shirt, Noctis used his free hand to pull himself past his shoulder, peering around the bedchamber. Regis turned himself in the direction Noctis was watching.</p><p>“Looking for something?”</p><p>He nodded firmly.</p><p>Regis hoisted him, trying to balance his son’s weight. “One of your toys?”</p><p>“My friend.”</p><p>“You haven’t told me you’ve made any friends.” Regis said curiously. Noctis gave no reply, returning his attention to the plush in hand.</p><p>“Your tonberry?”</p><p>“No!” Noctis snorted, as if Regis had been ridiculous to even suggest such a thing.</p><p>“Where do you think he’s gone to?” he asked, deciding to entertain Noctis’ creativity.</p><p>“…Outside?”</p><p>“Outside he is than.”</p><p>-</p><p>That had been it. An inconsequential conversation lost to memory as the prioritized details of the afternoon took over. The council insisted on bickering the better part of their meeting away over the conclusions Regis reached last night. A minority of them deeming the obtained Magitek test footage a larger threat than it needed to be. The plan of sabotage that Councilman Daos, nearly as old as the war itself, advocated for would either delay the flimsy project at best, or paint Lucis as an instigator of further violence between nations. It was hardly worth the risking the proposal of ceasefire Regis struggled to find amicable terms for, only to disrupt the progress of a technology that barely functioned if unplugged from its power source.</p><p>Watch closely. Wait and see. Don’t act rashly unless they are confident it will pose a genuine threat.</p><p>Noctis had been put to sleep before he was able to come home to his private chambers, as was normal. He didn’t wake when Regis checked on him. The tonberry, roughly half Noctis’ size, had managed to worm its way out of his hands in record time. Regis tucked the plush back between his son’s arms, which tightened their hold after registering its return. Lips twitching upward at the gesture, he bent down, ignoring the soreness in his knees as he kissed his Noctis’ forehead. He stayed by his side until his own eyes grew heavy, whispering goodnight before turning in to the adjacent chamber.</p><p>-</p><p>“Ardy’s gone.”</p><p>Regis was pleased to see Noctis awake before he left. The previous day was a much more typical, albeit extended one, with Noctis waiting till the final minute to rise. He couldn’t help but hurry his step to catch up with him, already wandering around the room.</p><p>“Your friend again?” he guessed. Noctis was practically bouncing as Regis approached to lift him, making his head jerk along in confirmation. He gave the bedroom a once over of his own, looking just as it had the evening prior, eventually resting his gaze on the window.</p><p>A bird, perhaps.</p><p>-</p><p>He found himself with Aulea weekly, if he was lucky. It was difficult to not come, the pain still freshly imprinted on his conscience. The royal tombs were fitted with lighting too harsh for Regis’ tastes, but devoid of other well-wishers, whom were cleared away following word being put in of his intended arrival. Their presence remained of course. The entrance was littered by a steady influx of gifts the city brought. Whether they had been left at the entrance due to a lack of interest or ability to go inside, or had been placed by the staff, was lost on Regis. Likely a bit of both. The crowding noticeably tapered off upon entry, but flourished anew the deeper he went, effectively creating a stream of flowers, trinkets, notes and letters. All given at will by a mourning public. He was no stranger to such a sight. It had been the same when his father and mother had passed.</p><p>Mild guilt danced in his chest, strengthened when he reached their place of rest, not at all far from Aulea’s. Their visits had gradually been reduced to an annual affair, admittedly soon after their passing. Would they think him uncaring, disloyal, that the time he had devoted to Aulea in death would soon rival that which he had afforded them?</p><p>The thought drifted through like water as his eyes glossed over to her own grave. Barely visible through the excess surrounding it, artfully arranged so her plaque was legible for those paying their respects.</p><p>A tourist attraction. It was to be his fate, Noctis’ as well, though he trusted he would not have to see that day come. The Lucian people had a right to their monarchs in death, and it would be selfish to deny them that.</p><p>That didn’t stop him from wanting to close the tombs any less.</p><p>-</p><p>“You should bring him next time.” Clarus told him as they road back to the citadel. “He hasn’t had a chance to see her since the funeral.”</p><p>“He was terrified at the funeral.”</p><p>“He still deserves to see her. It’ll be easier, he won’t have to look at…” Clarus trailed off, realizing the sentence was best left abandoned.</p><p>“It’s part of healing. It helped the kids a lot in the early days, talking to her now and again.”</p><p>“He’s so young,” Regis brought a hand to squeeze at his temples. “Would he even remember going, at his age?”</p><p>“He needs to process somehow.” He could feel Clarus regarding on him as he spoke. “I’ll arrange for him to join us next week, alright?”</p><p>Regis inhaled, too drained to make a discussion of it.</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>-</p><p>Clarus was correct of course. Noctis needed more than sympathetic mantras to guide him through this. Regis could admit to himself he was at fault there, but Noctis had seemed strangely fine after the initial shock of death rolled off him. A touch more irritable, yes, but still playful, still talkative, well. There were the bouts of silence. Moments he recalled in which his son would zone out in the midst of play, face vacant, expression stiff as his eyes lost focus on whatever toy he had previously been so attentive to. Regis would have to bring him back, stroking his hair and asking his name until he came out of whatever thoughts he lost himself in, blinking slowly and nodding to himself before finally acknowledging Regis’ attempts to reach him.</p><p>Next time, like Clarus said.</p><p>The day’s events were to be no more extensive than average, and that meant little more than a glance at Noctis before diving into the thick of it. Regis, expecting a late awakening, busied himself with his routine; trying to recall what business had been lined up him. He was certain, at least, that he didn’t have to suffer any trade reviews that day. Easy work, all but a free ride into maintaining Lucian relations with their allies, but beyond mind numbing.</p><p>Putting government aside, Regis made his way to Noctis’ room to see if he could wake him before heading down. Just before his hand touched the door handle, he paused. The sound of heaving could be heard, faintly, from the other side. Muffled but heavy gasps for air that sent warm dread across Regis’ gut.</p><p>Frowning, he twisted the door open and strode straight to Noctis. He could see his frame stressed from irregular breathing, cheeks raw with tears, and hands clinging tightly to bits of blanket that were pulled along when Regis lifted him up.</p><p>“Shhh, you’re alright. Everything’s alright.” He soothed, gently wrangling the blanket loose to make Noctis more comfortable. He only cried louder when he felt it moving, trying to keep it close.</p><p>Regis maneuvered them to the chair kept at bedside. He could feel Noctis shaking, frightened by whatever nightmare had afflicted him. They stayed that way at first, Regis rubbing one hand down Noctis’ back, bringing his breathing back to normal, save for an occasional loud sniffle.</p><p>“It’s okay. Tell me what happened.” He reassured, keeping his demeanor soft.</p><p>Noctis tried to respond, gasping when he attempted to get the words out.</p><p>“He’s sc- ary.”</p><p>“Who-“</p><p>Noctis let out another wail, barely legible in his attempts to conceal himself in Regis’ chest. Regis gently pried him away, straining his ears to make meaning of the toddler’s slurred speech.</p><p>“Noctis, who-“</p><p>“Ardy!”</p><p>That name, the one Noctis had been using with increasing frequency in the past few weeks. A small but unique detail that had begun to solidify its place in his life, Regis had accepted the excerpts from Noctis’ head would simply be a new element of their talks. There was a sweetness to the way Noctis’ eyes would widen as he bounced with excitement, just to be able to share more about his imaginary – Regis had assumed at this point imaginary – friend. He himself would barely be able to contain his amusement when Noctis pouted that Arty had gone missing every other morning.</p><p>Right now, he found little humor in it.</p><p>“You’re okay. Tell me what happened with… Arty.”</p><p>Noctis grimaced, tucking his head in. He wasn’t hiding himself completely anymore, relaxing his previously tight grasp on the blanket. Regis continued running his hand, encourging him to speak.</p><p>Speech laced with shame, Noctis told him.</p><p>“Ardy pushed me.”</p><p>Regis pressed his lips together, uncertainty running through him.</p><p>What kind of child made up someone hurting them?</p><p>“You’ve had a bad dream, that’s all.” He began, but Noctis frowned, voice raising in protest.</p><p>“No, he pushed me!”</p><p>“Don’t worry, you’re awake. No one-“</p><p>“He hurt me!”</p><p>“But,” right when he thought Noctis was calm enough to talk, it seemed he had triggered him back to the state Regis had found him in.</p><p>“He hurt me! It still hurts. Ardy pushed me!”</p><p>“Where,” Regis indulged, flabbergasted. “Show me where he hurt- you.”</p><p>He stumbled through his last sentence as Noctis presented his arm, averting his vision as fresh tears sprouted from his eyes. Regis took it in hand, easily able to encircle his fingers around its width. There were no discernible blemishes, no bruising of any kind. He gave the wrist a gentle squeeze, met instantly with a loud sniff and weak pulling from the action.</p><p>“It hurts.” He whimpered again, sucking in a breath when Regis moved upward, testing the forearm. Noctis grew tenser under his hold, reacting to each minimal prod at tender muscle. Clearly in pain to some degree, though no true harm done.</p><p>“Arty did this?” It was ridiculous, but Noctis nodded quickly, continuing to do so as Regis pressed forward.</p><p>“Last night? But he’s gone now, isn’t he?”</p><p>“He’ll come back. He’s still angry.”</p><p>“How do you know he’ll be back?” Noctis ignored the question, curling in on himself.</p><p>“Noctis?”</p><p>“Nighttime.” He answered miserably.</p><p>“You see him at night?”</p><p>“Every night. He’s gonna be mad.”</p><p>Regis froze, a wave of heat coming over his face.</p><p>“But he’s made up, isn’t he?”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>“Who- has someone been in your room?”</p><p>Noctis looked ready to say yes, already nodding in confirmation, but switched to shaking his head.</p><p>“I don’t know?” He spoke as if it were a question, as if he were worried the answer was somehow wrong.</p><p>“It’s okay, you’re not in trouble.” Regis said slowly, breathing in deep.</p><p>It had to be a dream. Some reoccurring… not a nightmare. Noctis had never given any impression of fear, so undoubtedly fond in the beginning. Arty was just a playmate, someone Noctis could imagine with him during the day. A way to pass the time when whoever was supervising him couldn’t engage fully. Certainly not some monster in the closet by any stretch.</p><p>Still. The way Noctis shrank back when Regis checked his arm. The clear pain he was in. The fact that every day he had a new story of sorts for him. He thought back to when it started, hardly remembering the details, but for Noctis searching for that friend.</p><p>Absurd. He would have been able to see, or at the very least hear something. They were separated by just one doorway; Noctis’ bedroom had been converted from a sitting area connected to his own, smaller, but appropriate for a child. He and Aulea selected it for that reason, and for the easy access to the rest of the living quarters, so servants could come and go without disturbing either of them. Astrals, there were guards placed at the chamber’s entrance, one on either side of the doorway at all hours. They were required to alert him to any unusual activity.</p><p>Unless…</p><p>It was always ensured that at least one of the guards at their living space was of senior rank, and both required a pristine record to qualify for the post. Necessary measures in a time of war, and to prevent instances like this. Only those with which the crown held its highest confidence.</p><p>And yet, someone had been in his son’s room.</p><p>He had to forcefully swallow the wash of horror rolling through him. An anxious mind would lead to a rash response, a legitimate risk considering the plausible escalation of the… Arty Situation. It wouldn’t do to interrogate anyone straight away; more likely if one of the sentry’s were responsible, they would pull back the moment Regis made his suspicion apparent.</p><p>Noctis had calmed greatly while Regis reviewed his words. His body was relaxed, no longer statuesque, blinking at the dryness his tears had left behind.</p><p>“Noctis,” he tested, pausing for a reaction. He shifted in Regis’ lap, indubitably beginning to ache from staying in the same hunched over position for an extended period. “How did Arty hurt you?”</p><p>Thankfully, giving time had given Noctis security as well. He spoke, timidly at first, but grew more sure of himself as he continued.</p><p>“We were playing. He went away and I, um. He got mad and scary and I tried to help but he was mad and he pushed me.”</p><p>A bare account, but better than nothing. Regis nodded, hoping to spur him further.</p><p>“How did he get in?”</p><p>“Um.”</p><p>“In your room.”</p><p>“I don’t know. When, no! When it’s bedtime?”</p><p>“Did he say you to what he wants?” Regis was aware his tone had begun to deepen, falling into his “regal voice” as Cid had coined it, which was meant for public appearances and quelling heated debates with diplomats and councilmen. Ill suited for a conversation between father and son. Although he was fidgeting again, Noctis had gained back the confidence he formerly displayed with the subject.</p><p>“We play, and talk.”</p><p>Though not the verbosity.</p><p>“About what?”</p><p>“I forget.”</p><p>“Noctis, this is important.” It was probably too much, to ask so many questions at once. Noctis was still a toddler, and, if what Regis concluded was true, he was unaware just how dangerous it was for him to have endured this on his own for so long.</p><p>For all Regis knew, this “friend” had been around well before Noctis had revealed him.</p><p>“Please tell me, is Arty real, or is he imaginary?”</p><p>Noctis’ response was immediate.</p><p>“He’s real.”</p><p>Regis shut his eyes, not wanting to betray his own fear.</p><p>“When did he start coming, Noctis?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“Try to think harder. When did he start-“</p><p>“I don’t know! All the time.” He squirmed, working to fight the blanket loose.</p><p>“What does he look like?”</p><p>“I’m hungry.”</p><p>“Noctis, please.”</p><p>“I wanna eat.”</p><p>“Noctis.” Regis said, more sternly than intended. He knew he was losing him quickly, but at least needed a picture of sorts to build off of. He strengthened his hold instinctively, keeping him in place as he tried to slip to the floor.</p><p>“Let’s go.” His son complained.</p><p>“We will. You just need to help me know he looks like.”</p><p>Noctis whined unhappily, not letting up his efforts to break free.</p><p>“Noct-“</p><p>“He’s big.” He dragged the word out, blatantly exhausted with the questioning. “Purple. Red hair.”</p><p>Another jerk and Noctis was gone. It was clear that giving Regis the basics was enough to put him under duress, but it would do as a jumping point. He’d have to head straight to security, those he was close with, inform them on everything he had found out so far.</p><p>The jittering of the bedchamber door alerted Regis back, Noctis already disappearing through as he called for him to follow.</p><p>Wordless, Regis obeyed.</p><p>-</p><p>“So, who’s our suspect?”</p><p>“It was hard to get a description, I’m afraid.”</p><p>Clarus’ brow creased deeply, growing grimmer at each detail Regis provided. He had prepared himself for a leisure day when he took his post that morning. The afternoon prior, Regis mentioned casually the dull affair he was to review – something regarding trade, which Clarus happily played no part in – leading up to what was hoped to be a final decision by the council that afternoon. Clarus would have the honor of absence, at that point being replaced by a member of the Crownsguard that would relieve him of his position for several hours.</p><p>Plenty of time to attend Gladio’s soccer game. Jared promised to bring Iris along, so he could spend the afternoon with her as well. It was a really more of a belated, but lengthy, lunch break, and he would return promptly to the citadel for the evening shift, but the planning he put into the day was worth it.</p><p>He wanted to believe it still would be, but didn’t expect much luck. Even if he was able to see his own children, there was no doubt his mind would be occupied with the safety breach Regis reported.</p><p>“He seemed confused about the hair color, at any rate. Red or purple. I assumed he’s an adult.”</p><p>“Safe enough assumption. It’ll be easier on all of us if you give more information to Crownsguard though. Skin tone, eye color, body type. Hair color and gender really isn’t anything to go off of. We can do a search for an Arthur, any names sounding similar, but it could be a fake for all we know.</p><p>“I’m going to refrain from any suspensions for now. We won’t want to draw attention to our investigation yet, especially if it’s an inside job.”</p><p>“I trust your judgment on who to involve.”</p><p>“Cor.” They said in unison, with minimal pause between their conclusion and tepid laughter.</p><p>“You’re,” Clarus asked, watching the flicker of bleak humor fade from Regis’ face. “Confident he’s not making it up?”</p><p>“He’s been so insistent these past weeks. And his arm. He was obviously in pain.”</p><p>“There weren’t any bruises?”</p><p>Regis hesitated, turning his gaze to the window.</p><p>“No, but he talks about him every day. He was so frightened this morning Clarus.”</p><p>“He’s three, Regis.”</p><p>The aforementioned snorted, ignoring him in favor of the skyline.</p><p>“Your majesty,”</p><p>“Don’t.” Regis warned, monotone.</p><p>“Regis. Are you sure you’re not a little paranoid? I understand being protective of him. I’ve been the same ever since-“</p><p>“Do you expect me to do nothing?” Regis snapped.</p><p>“No,” Clarus said. “I don’t. I just don't want you to rule out any mundane conclusions either.”</p><p>No response, but Clarus didn’t expect much, recognizing the rare shut down. Regis was good with anger, skilled at concealing it from public and politics alike. It hinted its presence with the twitch in his jaw, nothing more. Subtle, speechless, powered through until he was either alone or rid of those he wouldn’t allow to bare it witness. Clarus was one among those permitted to see those breaks, far and few as they were. Regis was manageable in such a state, but short tempered and only willing to rationalize if whoever was speaking to him delivered their reason like a slap to the face.</p><p>“I’ll have security review hallway footage from the past couple of weeks. And arrange for them to closely monitor tonight as well. I’ll pick the unit myself.”</p><p>He made to do so. Setting up a team, explaining the situation, and ensuring confidentiality, was going to occupy the remainder of his time before leaving for the afternoon.</p><p>“Clarus,” Regis called as he had reached the doorway. He turned. Regis had not moved from his spot, still focused on the outside.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Could you have someone watch his window? If they aren’t getting through the doorway. It’s high up, but…”</p><p>“Of course. My most trusted.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis perked up when Regis joined him that evening, smiling widely from his spread of toys. He was dressed for bed by a servant, who politely acknowledged Regis with a deep bow, before squatting back down to where he had been playing alongside Noctis to bid goodnight.</p><p>Regis looked the man over. He was a regular presence in their living quarters, assisting Noctis through his routines for roughly half of the week, and sticking around to be a companion when his workload allowed it. Aulea insisted on keeping the caretaker count minimal, so Noctis would be able to bond with a small number of consistent faces.</p><p>“Good evening, your majesty.” He said from the floor. Despite his age – the man couldn’t have been over twenty-five – he was one of the most casual attendants Regis could recall. Typically the younger they were, the more nerve rattled and stringent the servant, until experience eroded formality into familiarity with the royal family.</p><p>Regis preferred it that way, in need of reprieve from court-like mannerisms once home.</p><p>Youthful, average build. Blue hair, likely dyed.</p><p>“Remind me of your name?”</p><p>“Esau, your majesty.”</p><p>How might his hair appear if the lighting were brighter? The moon had already risen, but in the morning, the sun came in early enough that Regis was permitted to sleep through it, while oranges and reds beamed through the glass, painting themselves across the floor and the walls and any other surface within their reach</p><p>“You’re dismissed, Esau.”</p><p>“Yes your majesty. Enjoy your evening.”</p><p>Regis waited for the man complete his exit before kneeling down before Noctis’ assortment of toys, watching as he stumbled on his feet to meet him. He wasn’t quite able to leave his sitting position, but was unfazed by the failure.</p><p>“You're home!”</p><p>“I am. Were you having fun?”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“Good.” Regis had to lean over the sprawl Noctis had created to hug him. “Are you ready for bed? It’s getting late.”</p><p>“No it’s not.”</p><p>“It is, it’s past six o’clock.”</p><p>“I’m staying late.” Noctis replied brightly.</p><p>“You are, are you?” Regis teased, latching on to the cheerful energy. “But we have to go to bed, don’t we?”</p><p>“We can’t.”</p><p>“Why ever not?”</p><p>“Um,” Noctis looked about the room, searching for an excuse. “I have to work.”</p><p>“Work?” Regis declared, dramatic and disbelieving. Noctis gave an affirmative noise, picking up the stuffed tonberry that sat at watch by his side. He dragged his arm across the floor, bringing several of the colored blocks closer.</p><p>“It’s important.”</p><p>Regis watched in amusement as Noctis selected one of the hand sized, rectangular ones, pantomiming a scrawl across the pile he had amassed.</p><p>“Hmm, you may have to wait until tomorrow to finish.”</p><p>“I can’t. I have to.”</p><p>There was no sense in appealing to him logically. Regis waited for Noctis to bend closer to his “work” before tugging him away. The yelp he let out burst into a fit of giggles. Regis saw his opening, a sensitive spot where the base of Noctis’ neck met his hairline, and struck, prompting further shrieks of laughter. An adequate distraction for Noctis to forget that he was being carried from the floor to Regis’ personal chambers. He fell gleefully on his back when Regis placed him on the bed.</p><p>“Ready to get settled in?”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>“I thought so. That’s why,” he stopped short, waiting for Noctis to quiet himself in anticipation.</p><p>“I’ve decided that because I’m home, we should have a sleepover instead.”</p><p>Regis smiled at the over the top reaction. Noctis’ face opened, eyes popping and mouth stretching apart with excitement.</p><p>“Really? Read?”</p><p>“Why don’t you go get tonberry and pick a book?”</p><p>Noctis jumped off the bedspread in an instant, wobbling on his feet as he hurried to retrieve the necessities. Regis watched him vanish into his room. The enthusiastic demeanor was such a departure from the anxiety they had both experienced that morning. As if Noctis had taken it completely in stride, whereas Regis had worried himself out of focusing on anything else for the remainder of the day.</p><p>Noctis was back after some delay, the reason becoming apparent when he revealed not only plush and book in tow, but his own blanket and bed sheet struggling behind, tangling more stuffed faces in their grasp.</p><p>“This one!”</p><p>Regis laughed again, and went to carry the bundle the rest of the way.</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis resisted sleep as best he could, at one point trying to get up when he caught himself nodding off. He was easily corralled, being trapped by an extra layer of bedding and Regis’ arm, which he had willingly snuggled under.</p><p>Regis himself stayed up the entire night, not staying in place of course. His legs grew numb with the lack of activity he committed himself to once he was finished his duties for the evening. The exercise was a must, had been for many years if he was to keep himself in a shape similar to what men his age should be. Even if he didn’t consider himself old by the years, his body insisted on sticking to any position he sat in for beyond an hour.</p><p>As was expected of a Lucis Caelum.</p><p>It made a long night feel all the longer, and he gratefully drank his first cup from the large coffee pot that had been brought in earlier. He expected it would be the only time it would be appropriately temperatured, and thus savored the bitter heat, grimaced, and swallowed. A shame, how overpowering the drinks that could keep him awake were.</p><p>When he could feel the caffeine take affect, he came back to bed, pulling his son close. As always, he slept deeply, squirming at initial contact, but showing no signs of wakefulness besides that. He was entirely free from stress, face smooth, calm, and peaceful.</p><p>Regis felt guilt. He had spent any moment he could with Noctis, and there weren’t many to begin with, and how much had that amounted to? A couple meals, a brief window of play every few days?</p><p>Reports from nursemaids on new words he wasn’t there to hear. First steps he had to watch on video. A heavily vetted Crownsguard meant to protect him. Guards Regis had approved of and forgotten. He had missed, allowed, someone to slip into his <em>child’s</em> room.</p><p>He refused all distractions. No books or tablets or entertainment of any sort. Cold coffee to keep himself ready for any sounds through the cracked open doorway to where Noctis usually slept.</p><p>Caught between restlessness and exhaustion, Regis took the dawn in the chair at Noctis’s bedside. Black gave its way to brightening blues, <em>purples</em>, yellow and oranges streaks, and <em>red, red</em> tints splattering the room.</p><p>Nobody came.</p><p>With the sun now aligning too closely with the glass for Regis to look without stinging his eyes, he returned to check on Noctis, finding him sprawled out and, in an effort to avoid overheating, having shoved one of the blankets into a tangled mess half way off the bed.</p><p>Enough of a mess for Regis to be able to tell.</p><p>He betrayed himself further when Regis brushed fingers through Noctis’ hair, mouth splitting into a smile too big to hide.</p><p>“Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“Mhmm. Dad!” To his surprise, Noctis didn’t endeavor to burrow under, instead kicking back the sheets so he could come closer.</p><p>“Awake already?” Regis asked, more than happy to take him in his arms.</p><p>“Guess what?” Noctis exclaimed. “Ardy said sorry for pushing!”</p><p>All the warmth vanished.</p><p>“When-“</p><p>“Last night!”</p><p>-</p><p>“It’s just a dream, Regis.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments fuel me, even if its just a sentence. Thanks!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the security footage revealed nothing, Regis ordered a few cameras to be placed in Noctis’ room, to similar results. The stories kept coming, from Noctis, and from a few humored caregivers. All innocent accounts.</p><p>“We played last night.”</p><p>“He’s nice all the time.”</p><p>“I climbed a tree! Ardy helped.”</p><p>It had been an embarrassment for Regis, a revealing moment of over-protectiveness that had moved him to call in a portion of Crownsguard. All over a nightmare and a bit of make believe. Since then, Regis had done his best to take Noctis’ stories for what they were. Bygones were far bygone following Noctis’ upset, so Regis focused on relaxing back into his own routine. If he found himself staying up a little later, or waking just before dawn, he made no statement of it to anyone.</p><p>The therapist in his employ, Anya got an earful, however. She had been something encouraged casually by a council member that shadowed him in the weeks following Aulea’s passing, unsubtle in his intent, but by no means condescending in his suggestion. Once the tedium of rapport building had passed, along with the relief that the therapist showed no hesitation in calling him by his name, the sessions had become a stable expectation every other week. The woman was sharp, forward in the way Cid was, but able to deliver her points without emotional outburst, sensibly.</p><p>He could tell she always wanted more from him, on an early occasion too overt in voicing her awareness of his “difficult position” as king, borderlining offense when she suggested it as a potential barrier.</p><p>Yet, she didn’t press the matter, allowing him to distract from their usual focus on Aulea with anecdotes about Noctis. Yes, he was handling it just fine. He’s social. He’s happy. Yes, sometimes he gets sad, and that’s normal, isn’t it? Reserved sometimes, but he’ll grow out of it. He gets a little out of his head, yes. He’s young, Regis imagines he’ll forget most of it in time.</p><p>The therapist wasn’t too keen on that last part. No, of course he doesn’t want Noctis to forget her. He wouldn’t let that happen, and he talks to him about her regularly, whenever Noctis mentions her.</p><p>Why should he bring it up any other time? It only upsets him more, and he doesn’t want him to feel any more pain than he already does.</p><p>It could be helpful to talk about it in other instances. But he doesn’t get much time other than the evenings, and Noctis is in bed or getting ready for it by then. It’s not a good time to discuss things.</p><p>Sure, he could bring him here.</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis warmed up to the therapist immediately, thrilled when she produced art supplies for him to use. They kept their conversation lighter than usual, with Anya breaking away to compliment the boxy cat Noctis had drawn, its ears the size of its own head and legs dangling off its face like whiskers. When she asked him to draw his family, he set himself to work eagerly.</p><p>The family consisted of three circles with black scrawls obscuring the eyes – their only facial feature – which only Noctis was able to point out. Noctis insisted they had arms as well, somewhat visible beneath the hasty coloring job. Another cat had made it into the picture.</p><p>“Me. Mom. Dad. My cat.” He explained as the therapist pointed out each one, joining him on floor to see.</p><p>“Very nice, Noctis. And your cat’s name?”</p><p>“He doesn’t have one.” Regis explained.</p><p>“I wonder if you’d like to have one.”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“This same color?”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>“It sounds like a great idea. I like your drawings of everyone else too.” Anya reached down, pointing out one blob. “Tell me your favorite part about your dad here.”</p><p>“He plays with me. He’s tall.”</p><p>“I wonder what the two of you play together.”</p><p>Noctis didn’t answer, twirling a crayon between his fingers.</p><p>“He comes up with his own games.” Regis filled in. “He’s very imaginative.”</p><p>“I can tell.” Anya continued to focus on Noctis’ drawing. “I see mom her too, it looks just like her. You draw very well, Noctis.”</p><p>“She plays with me too.”</p><p>“I bet so.”</p><p>He said it unflinchingly, as if she were still with them, as if he would be able to do as he described once the two of them left the office.</p><p>“He says it like that sometimes.” Regis found himself needing to justify the response. It wasn’t like Noctis didn’t comprehend the death. but his manner of speaking didn’t reflect that. He would regularly tell his caretakers that he wanted to show his mother toys and books and things he found on the ground, even though he would cry for her days or hours later. “He knows what’s… happened. He’s not in denial.”</p><p>“He understands his mother is dead.”</p><p>Regis flinched. “Yes. Of course he does. He doesn’t act like it sometimes, but it’s… a coping mechanism, I think.”</p><p>Anya said nothing, her processing look – a mostly flat affect with a creased brow – claiming her face. Enough months of therapy had passed that the message of “keep going” was clear.</p><p>“I’ve mentioned before that he’ll space out. It’s not for too long, but he’s usually more attentive than this.”</p><p>“It sounds like it’s hard for you to focus sometimes, Noctis.” She was met with more silence from the toddler.</p><p>“It’s different from this. He’s just drawing right now.” Regis frowned. “I’m worried it’s not good for him. I’ve tried to help him through it, but it a reoccurring thing.”</p><p>“Well, you’re on the right track,” she returned to her seat. “You’ve suggested that this behavior may be a method of coping, and that is an appropriate way to view it. From the sound of it, Noctis is likely experiencing some dissociative states. They can be considered a symptom in this instance as well. Do you recall our previous discussion about the topic?”</p><p>He had, an earlier piece of the therapy, when he was still being prodded for information on how he was handling her death, questioned repeatedly on changes in his habits he may have noticed. Everything ranging from sleeping patterns to mood to new behaviors he may developed. Dissociation was not something he had experienced, but he had issues of his own; irritability, and keeping to himself more, which he had to, if he was going to avoid the stream of questions and check ins others wanted him to submit to.</p><p>In addition to talking, Anya had motivated him to learn a few techniques to utilize in his day to day life. The breathing exercises, as cliché as they were, proving the most helpful for himself, though he only found him utilizing them on his own, never around others.</p><p>“I recall. I’m not sure you’ll be able to teach him those exercises as this age.”</p><p>“Tell me what you’ve done with him then.”</p><p>“I’ve held him. Talked to him.” It was so little. “It’s all I can do in the moment.”</p><p>“Touch and sound. You’ve comforted him when seeing he needed your help. It sounds to me like you’ve been taking what we’ve been reviewing about grounding, and have been able to apply it to guide him as well.</p><p>“You’re making good choices for him, Regis.”</p><p>That was a direct statement, the kind that Anya would let hang between them so it could sink in, looking at him to determine whether he accepted what she had said or showed doubt. It was not unlike being drilled by a tutor, or stared down by an emboldened council member.</p><p>A change of subject was in order.</p><p>“There is another thing. The imaginary friend I mentioned before.”</p><p>“I remember,” Anya said with a nod. “You expressed some concerns a few months ago, but they were unfounded.”</p><p>“Yes,” Regis felt the burn of embarrassment pass over him. The time between his investigation and now had dulled his recollection of it, although he still brought a hand to his mouth, however unkingly the gesture was. “I worry I overreacted. There haven’t been any issues since.”</p><p>“But that hasn’t assuaged your fear.”</p><p>“It’s the way he talks. Noctis,” the boy looked up from the crayons he had strewn across the floor as if it were his own. “Tell Anya about your friend.”</p><p>“Ardy?”</p><p>“Your father has told me a little bit about Arty-“</p><p>“Ardy!”</p><p>Anya’s lips parted, an exaggeration of surprise. “I’m saying the wrong name, aren’t I?”</p><p>“He’s Ardy.” Noctis pouted his way through her attempts at getting the name right, growing louder with each insistence of the pronunciation.</p><p>“Ardy. With a ‘d’. Thank you for helping me Noctis. I’ll say it correctly from now on.”</p><p>“He’s my friend.” Noctis smiled, happy for Anya to have gotten the name, which Regis too realized he’d have to remember.</p><p>“Tell me what you and Ardy do together. It sounds like you enjoy spending time with him.”</p><p>“We climb trees.” Noctis’ voice raised once more. “We play glaives. And chase. And throwing.”</p><p>“You two do a whole lot.” She said encouragingly. ”I wonder where you play together.”</p><p>Noctis turned his attention back to the papers on the floor, beginning to gather them up.</p><p>“Noctis, she asked you a question.”</p><p>“What?” He turned back up, eyes darting from Regis to the therapist, pulled from the project he had returned to in the midst of conversation.</p><p>“I’d like you to tell me where you and Ardy play.” She repeated.</p><p>He looked away from them again, licking his lips thoughtfully, checking on the papers surrounding him.</p><p>“Um,” he began to bounce one of his legs, shaking his whole body in the process. “Outside.”</p><p>“Did you leave your room? He’s never said he that before.” Indeed, it was news to Regis. He had suspected that Noctis’ initial response, once his anxiety around the subject had begun to lax, had not been entirely accurate, especially with how Noctis latest stories implied things that simply couldn’t be done in his own room. Despite the inconsistency, it had been reassuring at times, a sign that could indicate Clarus had been right. Just a series of reoccurring dreams.</p><p>Noctis looked genuinely confused about the question, leg stopping and starting before shaking his head.</p><p>“Tell me a time you have left your room, Noctis.” Anya requested, voice calm and free from questioning inflection.</p><p>Noctis glanced at her for a moment, before turning his attention back to Regis, as if he may be able to provide an answer. He shook his head again, this time making a disagreeing noise.</p><p>“Really, not even sometimes?”</p><p>“Nope.” Head down again, Noctis tried to occupy himself with the mess on the floor, gathering up everything in arms length before stretching himself to reach around Regis’ legs for a few crayons that had rolled under his chair. Anya picked up on the avoidance, deciding to not provoke any further stress.</p><p>“You shared a whole lot, Noctis. Thank you. You can keep drawing if you like.”</p><p>Regis took the dismissal as a chance to resume. Having Noctis here was beginning to allow him to consider other options, and not just the mundane that others had insisted upon. Noctis had a reoccurring character to his stories, and they all ran fairly similar, but major details were often inconsistent.</p><p>“Could it be a hallucination of some kind?” he began. “I’ve spoken with a few people close to me, they think it’s nothing to worry about. But maybe there’s a psychological explanation.”</p><p>“A hallucination is a pretty big jump. Tell me what makes you think that.”</p><p>“It would explain why he keeps seeing the same person, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>“Hallucinations can vary wildly in individuals. There are some people who have a few reoccurring ones, so it’s not out of the question. But a fully fledged one like what you’ve described to me would be more,” she took a moment, searching, perhaps, for an easy way to dismiss him. “Unique. It’s not unheard of. “</p><p>Her features hardened slightly, preparing to challenge him.</p><p>“Before you thought it was an imaginary friend.”</p><p>“I presumed you’d be able to know better, being an expert in the field.”</p><p>It was an immature response, a counter challenge of his own made in hopes that she’d recognize his own efforts in finding a logical solution to the puzzle.</p><p>He just wanted to make sure his son was okay, for the Astrals' sake.</p><p>“I appreciate your confidence, Regis.” She replied, undeterred, and just a little cocksure. A less stable man would have called out the sarcasm, but Regis saw it for what it was; a matching of personality. Her forwardness had been what allowed him to commit to the therapy in the first place.</p><p>“In any case, hallucinations aren’t something that commit themselves to such specific circumstances. Given that you’ve shared that Ardy is a nighttime occurrence, I’d hesitate to say your guess is accurate at this time. I want you to keep in mind Noctis’ age as well. While we can certainly identify early signs of some possible possible disorders, we can’t give him an official diagnosis until he’s five. The more I observe, the better we can prepare for any future needs, of course.”</p><p>“So it is a possibility.”</p><p>“We won’t rule it out. Though,” she added, “You don’t seem so confident in the idea yourself.”</p><p>Well, what was he supposed to say to that? At the moment, he’d rather it be some disorder then a real, living person, even if it meant lifelong treatment.</p><p>“It is best to examine all options in situations like this.”</p><p>“You’re speaking like a king right now.”</p><p>Caught again. His eyes darted to Noctis, zoned out of the dialog and testing out the various colors in unstructured, erratic motions across the paper.</p><p>“I don’t want to act on the wrong conclusion.”</p><p>“You’re making sure you’re going to make the best choices for him.” She affirmed, voice hanging over the scene. “I wonder how you feel about bringing Noctis again next month.”</p><p>“Not next time?”</p><p>“In the interest of your personal therapy staying between the two of us. I’d like you to continue to feel open here, and not worry about saying what you can’t in front of your son.”</p><p>She wasn’t meaning to chastise, but it sure felt like it.</p><p>-</p><p>Scheduling was handled swiftly after that, with the agreement that Regis would switch between individual and family sessions every other week he came in. Following the appointment, Regis and Noctis were escorted their separate ways. The drawings Noctis had happily gifted to him were pocketed, and Noctis was carried away by a caretaker who’s name had escaped him.</p><p>Noctis, up the elevators. Regis, and the afternoon’s glaive, down.</p><p>-</p><p>All and all, it’s not a substantial change in routine. Regis felt he should be grateful what he had effectively mandated as more time with his son, but in such a goal oriented context, he couldn’t really get the moments he really desired, the one on one time where he could have Noctis to himself and leave his mental load behind.</p><p>Anya was able to put a positive framing on it. Sessions gave him a place to see Noctis grow as a person rather than hear it from others, and he undoubtedly preferred that. As Noctis adjusted to her, Regis too relaxed into the new dynamic, although he regularly felt compelled to fill in the blanks left by Noctis’ stories. She took a more child friendly approach with him, more drawings, and sand trays that Noctis filled with figurines and apologized for making a mess of whenever sand spilled onto the floor. They were a wanted break from his own appointments.</p><p>Noctis got something from them too. As the first weeks gave way to months, his episodes of spacing out grew less frequent. A change that came fast as advertised, which was to say, painfully slow.</p><p>One thing doesn’t change, and that's the pervasive Ardy talk. No longer a novelty, even for Noctis, he continued to share stories with whoever he was friendly with. Anya was among those friendlies, which meant an extra earful for Regis.</p><p>“He talks a lot. He’s funny.”</p><p>"We raced and <em>I </em>won.</p><p>“Ardy's gone sometimes.”</p><p>“I wonder where he goes.” Anya had ask when Noctis said that.</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>And other similarly vague details. Regis had resolved long ago to let him prattle away, if only so he could hear the excitement in Noctis’ voice when he talked about Ardy. He never wanted to do anything that would push him away. Even if Noctis’ smile was met with a wash of apprehension each time.</p><p>-</p><p>The next change to come, after encouragement from Anya and insistence from Clarus, was taking Noctis with him to see Aulea. Noctis ended up wedged between Regis and his shield, cramping the car with the booster seat that he wass beginning to regret the size of. He took out his phone to check when Noctis would be ready for a normal seat belt, the screen legible thanks to the tinted car windows.</p><p>Far off enough, and with so much variation in answers that he shrugged off learning the specifics.</p><p>“I have a few dogs at home, Noctis. Do you want to see?”</p><p>He put the phone away, his attention drawn to Noctis bouncing excitedly as Clarus swiped through photos of dogs three times his own size. He had taken to him from a young age, one of the few faces that had been with him since birth. One among…</p><p>Inhale for three, exhale for five.</p><p>Repeat.</p><p>Repeat.</p><p>Repeat.</p><p>“That’s Gladiolus riding on our wolfhound. He’s too old to these days, but when he was younger, he’d do it all the time.”</p><p>“I want to.”</p><p>“I think you’re a bit big for him too already Noctis, you’re growing pretty fast. You can pet him if you visit, though.”</p><p>“Dad!”</p><p>Clarus had been nudging Regis into introducing the kids again from the moment he picked a date for Noctis to join them at the gravesite. Gladiolus had met Noctis briefly, though “met” was a bit strong considering Noctis was only a few weeks old at the time. Any memory of it would be all Gladiolus’.</p><p>“I wanna go to Gla’iolo’s. I wanna see the dogs.”</p><p>Appealing directly to Noctis was as blatant a tactic as he could resort to, but Regis wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see Clarus use it. This was the first time Noctis had left the citadel property in half a year, which he knew deep down was a needed step. Clarus was right, had been so with increasing frequency, about Noctis needing more time with children his age, and Regis trusted him with, well.</p><p>“Your dad and I will set something up, Noctis. Gladiolus would love to see you too.”</p><p>Clarus looked over the booster seat as he said that, no room for subtlety between them. It wasn’t an aggressive move. He sent Regis a reassuring nod, a certain smile he reserved for private settings, where the closeness between them could reveal itself.</p><p>“We can do that.” It was for Noctis’ sake, after all.</p><p>It was more difficult to untether Noctis from the contraption than it was to get him into it, but they were able to leave the car after a short struggle. The location had been cleared as usual, this time with some parameter added for his son. Keeping Noctis from the public eye had been a mutual decision between Aulea and himself, to give him some semblance of normalcy before the gradual transition into the spotlight.</p><p>Noctis didn’t want to walk, and so Regis indulged him more than willingly as they entered the tombs. Arms snaked around to fasten himself to Regis’ neck, and he returned the favor, letting Noctis use his arms as a seat so he could watch behind them.</p><p>As they began their descent, the lights began to weaken, casting the somber tone the city wished to evoke. Noctis’ hold strengthen on Regis like an anchor, a tremor rippling through his body, matched with a harsh breath being sucked in. When he attempted to peel him back, Noctis whimpered, increasing the pressure around his neck.</p><p>“Noctis.” He murmured, stopping their trek. He ran his fingers up the back of his son’s scalp, rubbing gently. A loud sniffle came in response.</p><p>“Hey, we’re going to see mom now, remember?”</p><p>“No.” Noctis whined, drawn out and growing louder when Regis finally brought them face to face. “I want to go back.”</p><p>The response cut him like a sword running deep through his chest. A rejection. He didn’t think Noctis was ready in the first place, had put off bringing him along to avoid an outcome like this. How was he meant to respond to something like that?</p><p>Still, he needed his mother. Pretending it didn’t happen wasn’t going to help Noctis move forward. They had to power through it, at least long enough for Noctis to see her. They could leave early if it was too much.</p><p>“You’re okay, just a quick hello.”</p><p>“I wanna go home.” Noctis hid himself once more, shielding himself from the ancient stone walls carved out centuries ago. They had a ways to go to make it to Aulea’s resting place, and already Noctis wanted to turn back.</p><p>Regis let Noctis stay tucked under him, rocking him the best he could as he pressed further.</p><p>“Everyone’s left gifts for her.” He swallowed, trying to narrate some sort of comfort. “See, lots of flowers, offerings.” A lot less than previous months. The entrance wasn’t crowded anymore. Many displays had been replaced with mass printed stands framing words of memoriam. Flowers were no longer swapped out each time he came by, now simply vanishing at the first sign of withering. A new kind of trail that showed the passage of time. A country moving on.</p><p>He could feel Noctis shift eventually, peaking around before ending his inspection with another sniff and increasing tension in his body. Reassurances weren’t doing much to relax him, and the walk dragged the entire way to Aulea.</p><p>“Look Noctis.” This time he was easier to turn around, the puffiness under his son’s eyes swelled up his face as he followed where Regis had indicated. His eyes darted around the space, squinting in the darkness.</p><p>“Right here, see?” He stepped over the ropes that served as a barrier for visitors, giving them proper access to her.</p><p>His son shouldn’t be in a place so filled with death at his age. Death was supposed to be some separate entity that he only heard about. Not a lived experience, not yet. Aulea should be alive. They should all be home, or visiting any place that wasn’t a grave.</p><p>He was looking at her now at least. He really should have asked Clarus for more guidance, or have brought him along instead of waiting outside. But it had been agreed between them to keep the visit solely within the family.</p><p>“Do you want to say hello?”</p><p>Noctis gave no word, but reached out. Regis bent his knees so he would be able to touch the stone sealing her coffin inside. His son’s hand ran along the rim where the top met the container, the stone sanded smooth, polished to a shine that most of the crypt didn’t have, designed to last countless lifetimes.</p><p>Noctis held onto the lid, giving it a tug, fingers slipping back together. He frowned when his effort yielded no effect, trying again and again until Regis couldn’t bare it anymore, straightening up.</p><p>“Open it.”</p><p>Another stab to his chest.</p><p>“We can’t do that.”</p><p>The once quieted tears shot back into full sobs, ringing throughout the cavern, sharpening Regis’ own pain. No amount of verbal assurances were able to give Noctis peace of mind, and he had no choice but to return to the surface, casting an apologetic look at Aulea.</p><p>Clarus took over when they returned, buckling Noctis in before guiding Regis into the car. His began speaking to Noctis about his estate, the dogs, Gladiolus and Iris, his voice turning to white noise as Regis faced forward, motionless.</p><p>The entire way back, Noctis had begged for him to let Aulea out.</p><p>-</p><p>The Amicitia estate was far more reserved than the public would believe. The family was by no means spartan, but they used their space with purpose rather than excess in mind. There were multiple buildings on the property, a detail left over from a time before Insomnia was transformed in the metropolis it was today. The grounds were historic, and many organizations had propositioned the family for tours, though the Amicitia’s had no desire to host them. They were outfitted with a personal barracks, used to train soldiers once upon a time, and a wide range of gardens that rivaled, and those who were visited would argue exceeded, that of the citadel itself. A private paradise of flowers and stone.</p><p>Upon arrival, Noctis had decided he would lead Regis on the path to the main house. He allowed his son to guide him until he veered off and uprooted a flower, at which point he made sure to steer him toward the center.</p><p>He apologized at the door, though the servant answering brushed off his embarrassment tastefully, bending down to ask if “His Highness would like water for the pretty flower?” Yes, His Highness would.</p><p>They heard Gladiolus before seeing him, loud clamoring coming from steps taken two at a time as he thudded downstairs to meet them, before slowing into a walk half way, likely recognizing himself.</p><p>He made it across the entrance hall as Regis and Noctis’ coats were claimed, eyes wide, smile trying not to be wider. The bow he executed, while unnecessary, was flawless.</p><p>Clarus was waiting for them, infant in arms, in a proudly childish drawing room, rising when they entered. Though rich by all accounts, the contents of the room revealed the age of home’s residents; early age reading books, toys, play mats. Clarus didn’t keep up pretenses if he didn’t have to.</p><p>“Good to see you Reggie.” He greeted, staying in place so as not to disturb his daughter. “Did Gladiolus escort you two?”</p><p>“He did. Felt like home.” Regis laughed as he joined them.</p><p>“Very good. Noctis, do you remember Gladiolus?”</p><p>“He’s my shield.” Noctis said excitedly. Regis had reminded him such before the ride over, explaining both Gladiolus’ role and his sister to prepare him. Thankfully, Noctis’ forwardness had not been off putting, as a glance at Gladiolus proved he was more than content with the title, beaming with pride.</p><p>“That he is.” Clarus shifted his daughters weight to place a hand on his shoulder, giving him an affectionate shake. “And we’ve got Iris here as well.” He said, positioning himself to allow Noctis a closer look.</p><p>“She’s my shield.”</p><p>“No, she’s not!”</p><p>“Gladiolus.” Clarus warned through a smirk.</p><p>“Noctis’ going to be the first king with two shields.” A deep voice provided.</p><p>“Look who they got to drive.” Clarus was up again as Cor made his way in, trying to look nonchalant with a shrug that didn’t meet the pleased expression on his face. He was in full uniform, maintaining appearances better than anyone else in the room even as he fell back into a chair near the two of them.</p><p>Regis cleared his throat. “I was reminding him about the kids earlier. He’s a bit confused I’m afraid.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, he could be on to something,” Clarus said, jest lacing his voice. “How do you feel about sharing the responsibility, Gladiolus?”</p><p>Said child’s scrunched up nose said it all. A strong sense of devotion had to have already been instilled for him to be so protective of the role at his age.</p><p>“The two of you should play for a while, we’ve got time before dinner starts.”</p><p>Both boys were off upon being granted permission, the room large enough for them to have a degree of separation from their fathers while still staying in their line of sight.</p><p>“Quite a bow on him.” Regis said, still amused by the display Gladiolus had given when they arrived.</p><p>“He’s been learning from the glaives. I held a party for one of the recent classes and he was the star of the evening. Everyone was giving him tips, teaching him how to break holds; he just loves it.”</p><p>“He’s really taken to this.” Regis selected a chair with a view of the boys as a servant, who had made their way into the room in total silence, made their rounds, passing glasses to himself and Cor. A sip revealed it to be a whiskey they all shared a mutual love for.</p><p>“More than anything. Did you hear how jealous he got when Noctis called Iris his shield?” Clarus looked just as thrilled at the future position as his son was. “He’s been looking forward to this all day Reg, he’s always asking about Noctis and trying to get me to start on his training. He loves this.”</p><p>It showed. Gladiolus had brought Noctis to the other side of the room, where he had selected a plastic sword to show off. Noctis had taken his usual route of grabbing whatever struck his interest from the shelf, which the shield to-be didn’t seem to mind, explaining each toy that had been picked out.</p><p>“He’s got his own friends, doesn’t he?” Cor asked, setting down his emptied glass. “Outside all of this?”</p><p>“Yeah, public school. I don’t want him in any academies yet.” Clarus was interrupted by a gurgle from Iris, taking a moment to smile at her before continuing. “It’s a permanent lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean he has to be completely absorbed into it right now. He needs to learn to respect everyone, even if they aren’t nobility.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>Cor didn’t give words if he felt they weren’t needed. Regis looked way from the boys to see him looking his way, along with Clarus.</p><p>“Noctis is going to start with a tutor soon.”</p><p>“Found one?” The crease between Clarus’ eyebrows dug in. “Why not send him to a preschool?”</p><p>“We’ve always used tutors.” Regis could hear his voice growing quieter, already feeling pressure from both of his friends.</p><p>“He could stand to get out more, Reg. You keep him coped up enough as is.”</p><p>“He can come here a few times a month, or Gladiolus could come by. They’re already having fun together.”</p><p>“Already showing him how to fight.” Cor commented as said boys struck each other with toy swords, Noctis just avoiding tripping over the sea of toys on the carpet. Gladiolus was clearly holding back but enjoying taking lead, giving him bits of advice as they played.</p><p>The two of them had quieted, and Regis was forced to address the way they had set themselves up, Cor on his left, Clarus with Iris on his right, framing the scene he would rather give his attention. Waiting for a reaction.</p><p>“You are tag teaming me.” Regis wanted nothing more than to fall back into his chair. “Which of you is going to be the one to make your point?”</p><p>“The point,” Cor raised his voice before Regis could let them sit in the shame of being caught. “Is that you need to let Noctis do more. We aren’t going to tell you how to raise him, but you’re holding him back by keeping him in the citadel all the time. He’s going to miss out on a lot if you don’t open his world up again.</p><p>“Don’t sigh at me,” He added just as Regis was doing so. “He’s old enough that he should have a few friends his age,” Cor scratched at the back of his head, gritting his teeth. “Shit, we know you need time, Reg. We’re both here for you on that front.”</p><p>“I’m seeing a professional, if that’s what you’re worried about.”</p><p>“You can talk to us too you know.” Clarus twisted towards him, the best he could with his arms occupied. “Therapy is one thing, but you’ve been ignoring us.”</p><p>“I haven’t-“</p><p>“<em>I</em> haven’t seen you since the funeral.”</p><p>Cor took control of the conversation as effortlessly as ever. Regis wanted to protest it- he had seen Cor since then. In the halls here and there, he was sure he could recall a few instances if he made the effort. They hadn’t devoted any time to each other specifically, but he had his reasons. He was constantly occupied with politics and approving war tactics, it wasn’t anything new for him to get lost in it since ascending the throne.</p><p>And did they expect him to bounce back so soon, after just a couple of months? When he had Noctis to worry about, memories constantly berating him, the whole damn country calling his name? He placed his whiskey on the coffee table, not trusting his hold on it.</p><p>“So, is this some kind of intervention then?”</p><p>“Call it whatever you’d like, Reg.”</p><p>They both let that hang in the air for Regis to digest on his own. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, feeling dry from the alcohol. A glance at the children showed an undisturbed picture, bits of dialog between them melding with light clacks of plastic, serving as white noise for him to sort his thoughts to. A pang of guilt crawled through him. Neither of them should be present for this, even if they were in their own world.</p><p>“It’s been difficult to accomplish what I’ve needed to.”</p><p>“So stop making excuses when I try to set things up.”</p><p>Clarus wasn’t afraid in inflict a harsh tone, and Regis knew he needed it. Their expressions were both serious and reaching for him, making Regis want nothing more than to pull back.</p><p>There in lay their issue. Touché.</p><p>Neither of them had an obligation to Noctis. Clarus’ primary concern lied with him, and Cor took on more than enough odd jobs for the country when he wasn’t commanding Crownsguard. It was his and Aulea’s business to make choices their son.</p><p>He felt his face tighten. She was so much more than a mother, and it wasn’t just scheduling Noctis, it was him getting to be with family during the day. It was her crackfire wit that would drop jaws when they were all young and still falling into their responsibilities. It was having someone who knew exactly when he needed to buckle down and focus, having someone to come home to.</p><p>His jaw twitched.</p><p>“Reggie.”</p><p>“What?” he snapped.</p><p>“We’re not going to pretend you didn’t lose her.” Clarus’ expression was severe, but his eyes were empathetic.</p><p>“All we’re doing is picking up the slack for you.” Cor was less biting now. ”You’re going to fall apart if you do this alone.”</p><p>The problem with being friends with anyone for upwards of two decades was that once they made a decision, there was very little that could be done to have them back down, royal status or no. It also meant that brushing them off wasn’t an option, and that they knew him too well for him to give any non-committal response, which they would see as the dismissal it would be.</p><p>Regis shut his eyes. If nothing else, he could at least appreciate the brutal honesty that had binded them over the years.</p><p>“I can tell I don’t have a say in this.”</p><p>“None.”</p><p>Regis hummed, any attempt at a smile would feel as false as it would look.</p><p>A triumphant cry from across the room drew the three of them. Noctis, after falling down repeatedly, had finally gotten Gladiolus to tumble to the floor.</p><p>“So, is he still talking about the Ardy thing?”</p><p>From one topic to another. It seems they were at least satisfied on the other front for now, though an old urge to have them both thrown into exile passed over him.</p><p>“The therapist suggested it could be a coping skill. Filling,” his reply laid heavy on his tongue, “in the gap.”</p><p>The morbidness was not lost on the other two, who took their time before Clarus gave him a simple “Makes sense.” No word from Cor, but a nod paired with averted eyes that gave away his discomfort with having brought it up.</p><p>“Gladiolus had an imaginary friend too. He grew out of it after a while, I’m sure Noctis will as well.”</p><p>“What was it like?” If anyone knew, it would be Clarus. Their situations mirrored each other, almost. Regis tried to recall how Clarus had been back then; he and Aulea had both made an effort to make sure he wasn’t alone, visiting his home often to help keep the space occupied, and themselves available. Clarus had been shielded, if the pun was worth it, but easily let his mask fall away once they had sat him down behind closed doors. They never spoke about those months directly, but neither he nor Aulea did it for gratitude.</p><p>It was so much easier to be on the other side.</p><p>“Let’s see, if I remember,” much needed humor took over Clarus’ tone. “Their name was Willow. Could turn into any animal Gladiolus wanted. But they faded out once he started making more friends.”</p><p>“Was it a nightly occurrence though?” Regis asked, leftover bitterness caught in his throat.</p><p>“It was a whenever he felt like it thing. Maybe Noctis is bored at night, or something. That therapist could probably figure it out.”</p><p>It was Noctis who freed him from the conversation, bounding over to them with Gladiolus at his heels, blurting his request with a look of great importance on his face.</p><p>“Slow down, what do you want to do?”</p><p>“The borezees! I want to see them.”</p><p>“The what?”</p><p>“The borezees!”</p><p>“The borzois,” Clarus provided. “Remember how big they were in the pictures, Noctis? I have them in the other room right now, they can be pretty energetic.”</p><p>“I wanna see.”</p><p>“I can show you.” Gladiolus offered. “They’re super fast.”</p><p>“Go ahead, we’ll call you in a little bit.”</p><p>Clarus told Gladiolus, but looked at Regis, keeping him from giving his own approval. The boys had already taken off again, Gladiolus yelling the dog’s names for Noctis as he led them out of sight. Clarus was asking for trust, Cor as well, devils that they were.</p><p>He kept quiet, and let Noctis disappear.</p><p>-</p><p>“You still have concerns.”</p><p>“It’s far more specific than what anyone else says.” This week’s session was a private one, much needed in the days following being cornered in Clarus’ home. “I do believe it’s a logical explanation… but these peculiarities. I can’t help but think I’m overlooking something.”</p><p>“That’s true, and I can see how those differences you’ve been highlighting between Noctis and your friend’s son would make you have reservations.” Anya lowered her posture, reclining in her chair. “Tell me what you think you’re overlooking.”</p><p>“Something,” Regis cleared his throat, uncertain. “Greater. I see how much of it is just play. That's the most of what Noctis talks about when he starts on Ardy.” He looked around the room, out the window that let light beat against the therapist's back, and made his clothes uncomfortably hot. They were low enough that there was a skyline, sparse, but present enough to block out some of the wide, otherwise spotless sky.</p><p>“There should be more I can do for him. Sitting around and talking isn’t going to move him forward.”</p><p>“You want a change that’s tangible.”</p><p>He met her eye, annoyed at the non-answer. Her face was challenging, stoic and flat lipped.</p><p>“I’ve spent enough of my life debating what is to be done in a situation,” he said, inflecting sternness into his voice. “to know that it is for naught if nothing is accomplished or pushed forward thereafter.”</p><p>“That’d be your king voice, Regis.”</p><p>He took a deep breath, holding back the urge to make a show of looking out the window a second time.</p><p>“You must have something else he can try.”</p><p>Anya let a small ‘tsk’ sound split through her teeth, a rare glimpse at her searching for a response.</p><p>“You’ve told me before that Noctis’ interactions with Ardy have only occurred when others are absent, at nighttime.”</p><p>“That’s correct.”</p><p>“Could you tell me a bit more about his sleep schedule; bedtime, when he wakes up, things like that?”</p><p>“He gets plenty of sleep.” Regis’ hands flexed impatiently. “They currently put him to bed at 6:30, sometimes later if he’s having trouble. He tends to sleep late in the mornings, but he’ll come around easily enough.”</p><p>“And is he well rested?”</p><p>For the most part, yes. His child was reportedly grouchy when waking, but Regis rarely found that to be the case. He was still prone to napping in the afternoon, but Regis wasn’t sure how other children compared in that regard.</p><p>He confirmed such to Anya, who took another moment to formulate where she was going.</p><p>“At his age, he should be getting around ten to eleven hours per day. It sounds like Noctis is getting a few more than necessary, which can happen for a variety of reasons; when dealing with stress, or experiencing recent trauma, for example. In cases like this, it can sometimes help to use a carbuncle.”</p><p>“Would that be able to help him with Ardy?”</p><p>“I bring this up,” her voice was pressing, teetering the line of critical in Regis’ opinion. “because of our previous conversation about this being a coping mechanism for Noctis. I won’t guarantee it will put Ardy out of the picture, but if nothing else, it’ll make it easier for Noctis to sleep, and allow him to feel more relaxed throughout the day as well.”</p><p>“I want to remind you,” she concluded smoothly, “that our primary goal is to help him with processing Aulea’s death.”</p><p>He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Anya trying to meet his glazed over expression, his eyes going dry as he continued to keep watch on the light coming into the room. His chest expanded as he took in air.</p><p>“Ardy is the coping mechanism.”</p><p>“Possibly.”</p><p>He pressed his teeth together, grinding slightly.</p><p>“I’ll have one ordered for him.”</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis loved the carbuncle; a small, carved stone shaped in its image and sent directly up to their chambers. He inspected the curves in the figure, taking great interest in its long, wing-like ears, the staff reported. They were happy to let him know that Noctis did not stick it in his mouth, a thankfully dying habit.</p><p>It was the gift perhaps that made it easier to put him bed that evening, the carbuncle clutched in his small hand, which looked all the smaller in comparison to the totem. Regis felt compelled to touch it himself when he arrived home, feeling some strain in Noctis’ fingers as he silently pulled it back. He placed the old tonberry plush, which had fallen extra early tonight, in the chair at his son’s bedside, not wanting it to replace the carbuncle in the middle of the night.</p><p>At sentry, it completed the layers of comfort he could give in this time. Cameras, a stuffed toy, a figurine to pray for holy support, and a father.</p><p>He kneeled, loosening the twists in the sheets to keep Noctis legs from going numb.</p><p>Let it be enough.</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Give me that.”</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Two major things:</p><p>A lot of you commented you were happy to see Regis pov, and I'm happy to say we'll be staying with him for a while. This story will branch out into other pov's as it goes, which I hope you'll enjoy as well. Just want to be transparent on that.</p><p>As tags say, this is an AU. I haven't been sure how to say what makes it an AU without giving away some specifics, but I guess its best described as non-Episode Ardyn compliant (though some elements make it in)</p><p>A lot of your feedback helped me sort out some little details, so thank you to everyone who commented so far, you are wonderful motivators.</p><p>One last small detail; the Amicitia's have three bozois; Bud, Petal, and Leafe. Sprout is a wolfhound, and is the dog in the picture Clarus shared. Do not put your children on top of a dog.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At six, Gladiolus was a touch older than Noctis with a clear desire to prove himself more mature for it. Regis was able to see the effort up front at the estate, where he took an immediate brotherly role that had persisted to this very afternoon. Noctis wasn’t quite able to keep up with the shield to-be, who prioritized more active play over Noctis’ bulky, child safe collection of toys in the play room.</p><p>At one point, his energy had either depleted, or he had chosen to take a break, pulling a tablet from the backpack he had slung over his shoulders when he arrived in the citadel that morning. Noctis stood pressing his body against Gladiolus’ arm, as the older boy sat criss-cross on the floor and attempted to show how to work some sort of game on it. His son was mesmerized to silence, even when Gladiolus screamed and shook the thing when the game didn’t go his way. Not a bad gig for a first grader.</p><p>Regis set his own tablet down for what must have been the fifth time. The cameras had been a good idea for his peace of mind, back when his fear was still fresh, but they often became distracting in an occasion such as this.</p><p>Gladiolus wasn’t to be the last child introduced. A collection of folders sat in organized stacks across his desk, each one mentally labeled as he attempted to sort their placement. One such pile had proliferated above them all in the “maybe” category, though if Regis was being honest with himself he hadn’t skimmed it as thoroughly as he ought to. Rather, they were glossed over for a good excuse to be disregarded from the actual decision making.</p><p>Too old.</p><p>A cover letter that amounted to a list of changes the applicant wanted to make to the kingdom.</p><p>A member of <em>that</em> family.</p><p>He didn’t have to share his reasoning or his biases when it came to assigning an advisor, unless he rejected them all, so he allowed himself the pettiness.</p><p>It didn’t help that he had to complete the assessment on his own. Years ago, he bemoaned how many applications they’d have to sort through to Aulea, She had voiced her own contrary excitement, finding satisfaction with, and perhaps a touch of voyeuristic delight, at getting to select the best possible companions for their first child. Regis allowed himself to indulge her enthusiasm No one else would be able to make the task before him as entertaining or fast as she would.</p><p>There were a few factors they had agreed on, which he intended to look out for. A serious disposition was needed; “because your side of the family would never get anything done without someone else keeping it together for you”, she had said through an intentionally teasing smile. But, they would need to be compatible in personality as well, or at least accepting of whatever quirks their child would have. Someone who would be able to offer guidance, but foster strength for their child to make the decisions that would befall them as future monarch.</p><p>Not, Regis thought as he discarded a file containing an essay on how a fifteen year old planned to save the economy, a career politician.</p><p>Even with the majority of the candidates not making it to Regis’ office thanks to a – his eyes flickered to the teen’s file again – questionable vetting process, he still had to suffer some forty or so.</p><p>The piles loomed, standing out all the easier thanks to the black, bare walls of the office. Regis preferred to keep decor to a minimum for the same reason he generally avoided the tablet; distraction. A few exceptions were made, a large potted plant here and there breathing some life into the room, intricate but subtle carvings of the family line’s crest etched into the walls, among a few choice others, that had been there long before he had inherited the space and handful of photographs framed on his desk. Debatably old fashioned, but it soothed him to be able to see his family whenever he desired.</p><p>A gleeful cry broke through his thoughts. The tablet’s sound had been left on. Regis picked it up, seeing the game Gladiolus had brought had now been abandoned in favor of stacking blocks that were well past Noctis’ head. He cheered Gladiolus on, who was holding the space between his son and the tower with a well positioned arm.</p><p>Noctis ducked around, prompting a warning shout from Gladiolus, who pushed him to the side to prevent the tower from toppling at the possible contact.</p><p>He was zoned out, Regis realized, the folders in front of him looking more daunting at every glance. The choosing of his son’s companion was never meant to be done single handedly.</p><p>More shouting from the two boys, and there went the tower. He watched the screen as they quickly regrouped, undeterred by the lost progress. There was no bounce back, the collapse of blocks stopping them only for the moment needed to take in the sight, before both began to assemble the structure once more.</p><p>Regis closed out of feed and opened his messenger.</p><p>-</p><p>Clarus had his own duties, as did Cor, but the later promised to come by in the evening, extending both of their work days. He was already waiting outside the office by the time Regis had returned from council, ever the professional in the public eye as he uncrossed his arms and tilted his head high to acknowledge Regis’ approach.</p><p>After approval from him, Cor claimed the maybe pile, grimacing at its bulk as he dropped it on the glass table Regis kept at the room’s center with a thud. The unsorted one made its way over by Regis as they took their respective places. In no time, Cor had been able to determine half of them, in his own words, as “bootlicking aristocratic wannabe yesmen.”</p><p>“This is why you don’t write my speeches.” Regis joked.</p><p>Cor’s presence alone lessened the load, never mind the quick work he was making of things, and the two of them gradually dissolved to scrutinizing any insultingly poor applicant that had the misfortune of being read by the both of them.</p><p>He felt much lighter than before when they parted ways at the elevators. It was late, as expected, and the chambers would have been black if it weren’t for the windows inviting moonlight into his quarters. He navigated the rooms with practiced ease, having no need to touch the lights even when checking in on Noctis, before retiring to his own room.</p><p>With no desire to stay up any later, he surrendered himself to the monotony of nightly routine, eventually honing in to the glint of the rings on his hands in the bathroom mirror.</p><p>Rarely did he commune with the monarchs who came before him. Almost never, in fact. In the two instances he had sought them, it was evident that only some were willing to give guidance, typically in the form of a bored opinion from some king or queen he couldn’t name, let along source the voice of. They were over one hundred in number after all.</p><p>The first time had naturally been after his father died. An hour hadn’t gone by before he was ushered into the chamber where the crystal was held, rites read quickly by the waiting priestess for the ears of himself and Clarus, before the ring was presented to him.</p><p>The stories passed down from generation to generation weren’t enough to prepare him. Hollering exploded between his ears, and he was forced to shut his eyes to prevent further stimulation from afflicting him as disembodied voices hit him with praise, insult, his own <em>father</em> shouting at him post mortem not to fail his expectations. Secrets he had known but not <em>known</em> until that very moment when new powers surged through him, invigorating his body even as his head hammered with tension, making him collapse into the stars.</p><p>It turned out he was on the floor, writhing through the ceremony, but when his eyes opened a second time, seeing the realm he still belonged to, he had never felt more powerful. He was certain he could float above the ground, if he chose to, warp miles from where he laid, control every sentinel in the city with the spirits who had now granted themselves under his control.</p><p>Erecting the wall had been so effortless, he wondered how it had ever hurt his ancestors.</p><p>Then there was the other time, shortly into his reign, when he was fed up with and still looking to replace several members of his father’s council. Realizing he had one hundred and twelve experienced voices at his disposal, he turned the ring over, trying to will some response from them.</p><p>They were a combination of furious and mocking, with only a few sympathetic to his plight.</p><p>
  <em>“Using the ring to solve the nations problems? What kind of king can’t make his own choices?”</em>
</p><p>He imaged he’d take better to it lying down, feeling self assured in that he hadn’t changed out of his suit yet – he had no desire to speak with his ancestors in his bedclothes. He took the window seat, leaning back into the cushions placed in the alcove. If he squinted, he’d be able to make out the stars beyond the smog that he’d soon be surrounded by.</p><p>Wind wrapped itself around the building like a snake trying to crush its prey, and Regis closed his eyes, hearing it screech after him as he twisting the ring around his finger, demanding access to the astral realm.</p><p>It was just as bad as the last time, though bracing himself made the familiar shouts more bearable. The mostly black sky of Insomnia replaced itself with blue-greens and purple ribboning around him, glittering with starlight as the Lucis Caelum line contested each other for control.</p><p><em>“Some time has past since you’ve last called on us.”</em> One queen called sharply above the others.</p><p>“I seek to see someone deceased.” He made sure his voice was stern, inflicting demand rather than request with the practiced authority he had learned to slip into since his last call.</p><p><em>“Why else would you come but to seek your predecessors?”</em> One scoffed.</p><p>“None among you.” Regis said, but before he could explain, he was cut off by another king.</p><p>
  <em>“No one lingers in this realm beyond passage. Only our bloodline may stay behind.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Only the kings and queens of our bloodline.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Regis.”</em> That was his grandmother’s voice, gone unheard for decades. <em>“Who is it you seek?”</em></p><p>He held his shoulders back, raising himself to full height, hoping that sentiment wouldn’t waver his voice.</p><p>“My wife. Aule-“</p><p>The simpering discussions around him halted, a deathly silent second hung before another chorus of remarks.</p><p>
  <em>“His wife?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She’s not a Lucis Caelum, even if she marries in.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What need of her could you possibly have? The dead do not return to comfort the living.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Estrell, you war mongering idiot, show some sympathy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Does he not know how the ring works? What a waste of our time.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You summoned us for nothing.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He is grieving Castor.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>“If you are all capable of being summoned here,” Regis called, his voice barely loud enough to join the others, but drawing attention of some, “there must be a way for other spirits to-“</p><p><em>“We do not travel between realms.” </em>Castor Lucis Caelum’s voice boomed. <em>“We reside between.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Only the blood of our blood remains.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Only those who ascend the throne.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I raised you to be stronger than this. Did I wallow when the queen departed? You utter disappointment.”</em>
</p><p>Regis shut his eyes, and then shut them again so he could return. It was much darker now, the moon too high to be able to reach inside.</p><p>His body was constricted in spite of the brevity of communion, stiff with stress and the aches of sitting all day. Blood pulsed in temples so loud he could hear it, as he tampered down a familiar pressure trying to escape his eyes.</p><p>-</p><p>Lucis Caelums always started schooling earlier than average, and Noctis would be no exception as he approached his forth year, ready to extend his education beyond letters, numbers, and shapes. The matter of securing a tutor was easily accomplished, as Aulea had already named one a few years prior; an acquaintance who had a flawless record spanning decades of work with noble children.</p><p>In the interim, Cor continued to cut through candidates like daemons on the battlefront, now narrowed down to a dozen children close in age to Noctis. They would be introduced to him alongside the tutor, to give a chance for them to observe any compatibility or personal preference he may have. Aulea had been the one that planned it that way, and Regis was thankful for Cor’s stoic nature that kept him from lingering on that particular detail. He had been warming up gradually to mentioning her in passing, and it was Cor’s willingness to keep the conversation moving instead of forcing more from him that allowed the words to not weigh him in place whenever they slipped out.</p><p>Clarus did his best, letting the guard know not to announce them as they entered lounge turned makeshift classroom, though all adult heads, and several children’s, in the room still turned in their direction as Regis slipped in. Each of them fell in a low bow, and Regis begrudgingly gave them the consent they now required to continue as they were.</p><p>Noctis rushed to him, the toys across the floor an obstacle course, and slammed a hug into Regis’ legs with a force that shouldn’t have impacted him as much as it did, given his size. His hand was then yanked, forcing him to bend downward.</p><p>“Come on. Let’s play.”</p><p>It was hard to ignore the request, even harder to explain to Noctis that he was just there to watch, and gut wrenching when his son accepted this by turning heel and sprinting back to the other children, hair bouncing as he rushed to find an alternative companion.</p><p>“You’re already doing more than His Majesty did,” Clarus consoled, sensing the cold feeling of rejection the action had struck Regis with. “Getting them all together like this, letting him have some fun. Your father just announced yours, as I recall.”</p><p>Regis groaned. “Please, don’t remind me of Lomb.”</p><p>His first advisor had been thirty years his senior, strict and hand picked as a “bright man with a future council seat”, a nondescript factor Regis would be reminded of whenever he expressed his dislike of him to his father. It took until his teen years for Regis to finally snap and seek audience with the former king, charging into his office and demanding Lomb be released, criticizing every one of his dated values and vowing not to speak to him again.</p><p>
  <em>“Now you’re speaking like a king.” Mors laughed. “Find yourself a replacement and dismiss him personally. I’d introduce your new advisor right before you do, it’ll wipe that smug look off his face. It’s about time you kicked his narcissistic ass out.”</em>
</p><p>His father was right. The look on Lomb’s face was the most satisfying sight of his adolescence, almost making up for the test his father had laid out for him in the first place.</p><p>Among the staff maintaining order in the room were a few who acted solely as observers. As Regis settled himself to the side, making sure to have a good vantage point of Noctis, one such observer approached, ready to fill him in on how the day was progressing.</p><p>“He squabbled a bit with Mica there.” the staff member gestured to a girl busying herself with an art project at the table. “She didn’t want to share with him.”</p><p>“Tell me what happened.”</p><p>“He took some craft paper from her, Your Majesty. They both slapped at each other before we separated them.”</p><p>Regis turned his attention to his son “Did he apologize?”</p><p>“Not yet, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Noctis.”</p><p>The room fell silent again as Noctis, oblivious to the change in tone, returned to him. A subtle nod, and each head in the room turned back to task. Noctis’ face fell upon being scolded for fighting, and then again for denying it when Regis explained that the staff had seen it happen. He beelined to Mica obediently, giving as sincere of a sorry as a toddler could manage in a voice far louder than necessary. The girl accepted it, looking indifferent.</p><p>The briefing continued, the observer providing short but detailed descriptions of how each potential advisor had interacted with Noctis thus far. He showed an interest in the older children, two of which who had humored Noctis in particular.</p><p>“He talks about that friend of his a lot.” The observer chuckled. “Duryn got in a long talk with him about it that he seemed to enjoy. He’s very mature for his age. But a lot of the others,” he cleared his throat, laugher dissipating. “They found it… odd, Your Majesty. His Highness didn’t respond well to being dismissed.”</p><p>Regis’ heart sank. “I’m sure he’s talking about other things”</p><p>“Well, it’s certainly his preference,” the observer admitted. “He’s mostly been trying to play with everyone all at once. He’s barely been able to sit still.”</p><p>Noctis was standing still as he could manage, ironically, swaying on his heels behind one child, hands stuffed in his pockets as he attempted to question the other youth whose nose was planted firmly in a book. The child seemed polite, looking up to respond to Noctis’ questions, but his interest lay clearly in the book in his hands. Too serious for Noctis’ tastes, he kicked off to find someone else.</p><p>The observer’s notes drifted over his head, Regis only paying mind to any particularly red flags and hoping that Clarus would retain the rest of the information. When they departed, the observer, to his chagrin, helpfully promised to have a report on his desk by the end of the day.</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis’ energy remained higher than it had a right to be. Regis assumed being around so many children his age would have depleted him by the day’s end, though he now wondered if being around others had actually amped him up.</p><p>“He’s not going to stop moving,” Clarus warned before they parted. “Not for years.”</p><p>“I’m sleeping over.” Noctis announced when Regis entered his bedchamber, already seated on the bed with his tonberry strangled under his arm.</p><p>“You won’t get a story if you do.” Regis warned, moving to his wardrobe so he could begin undressing.</p><p>“No. I want one.” Noctis warned back.</p><p>Free from the trappings of his jacket and belt, Regis came to the bed, Noctis scooting on his knees to receive his hug.</p><p>“I’m going to wash up. You get a story if you’re in your room when I get back.”<br/>
Noctis gasped, jumping off the bed – taking a year off Regis’ life with him – and disappearing into the adjoin room.</p><p>Regis continued undressing. In actuality, he’d love nothing more than to share his room with Noctis again. To have him close by where he’d be able to protect him from any sort of danger before it had the chance to strike. Keeping him separate felt like the right thing for a parent to do at his age, to help him feel safe on his own. But the selfish side of him screamed protest regardless of his attempt at reasoning.</p><p>He finished dressing down for the evening, met with a fit of giggles coming from behind the door as he knocked, and the muffled sound of feet padding closer.</p><p>“Boo!”</p><p>Regis gave his best look of surprise, causing Noctis to shriek in delight. After he “recovered”, he reached down and pulled Noctis close, taking him to his bed.</p><p>“You didn’t get a book while I was gone.” He observed as he pulled back the covers.</p><p>“I want your stories.”</p><p>“That we can do.” Regis said softly, warmth swelling in his chest as Noctis started settling. “What kind of story would you like?”</p><p>“Something about,” he dragged the words out, sing song as he thought. “Cor. Something funny.”</p><p>“A <em>funny</em> story about Cor? You know he never learned how to laugh, don’t you?”</p><p>Noctis’ own laughter returned at full force, Regis certain that it would pierce the space leading to the lower levels of the citadel as he recounted a hazing ritual Cor had been put through over the week he had been approved for Crownsguard. He whispered the details and checked the door multiple times, as if Cor were somehow outside and would hear them otherwise. Noctis promised never to tell anyone.</p><p>“Again.” Noctis demanded when he finished.</p><p>He recounted it as requested, Noctis somehow finding even more enjoyment knowing how it would play out.</p><p>“Again!”</p><p>“You know we have to go to bed on time.” Regis told him, smiling at Noctis’ enthusiasm. “I have work in the morning, and you have your friends to see.”</p><p>“Is Gladio coming over?”</p><p>“He is, and you’ll get to see some of the children you met today again.” He moved to sit on the bed, pulling the blanket up so Noctis was covered all the way. He hesitated, recalling what the staff had told him earlier. “Did you enjoy playing with them?”</p><p>“Mhmm.”</p><p>“Good.” Regis looked the bedside over, wondering. “Where’s your carbuncle?”</p><p>“Um,” A mistake. Noctis kicked out of the bed, running across the room to a dresser, which he began harshly pulling open the drawers of, digging and leaving each open as he searched, eventually producing the totem.</p><p>“What’s it in there for?” Regis asked as he scampered back.</p><p>“I don't know. I played hide and seek.” Noctis said as he handed it to him.</p><p>“Hm. By yourself?”</p><p>“Um. With Esau.”</p><p>One of his caregivers. The name brought back him back nearly a year. That was the young man that he had, not questioned directly, but wondered about when he had been at his most fearful for Noctis. The shame around the incident had solidified it into a vivid memory.</p><p>“Keep it by you at night,” He said, returning it to him. “It’ll help you sleep.”</p><p>Noctis looked puzzled. “How?”</p><p>“Well, they say when we keep one close, a real one will come when you sleep.” Regis explained, the story well known amongst devoted followers of the six. “They make sure you have good dreams at night, and can help us feel better if we’re sick.”</p><p>His frowned, wrinkling his nose. “What if he bites me?”</p><p>“He won’t.” Regis assured, humored. “Carbuncles are messengers. They’ll help you.”</p><p>“With what?”</p><p>“With sleep. Lay down Noctis.”</p><p>“But I want to stay up.”</p><p>“Than you’ll be too tired to see any of your friends tomorrow.”</p><p>That worked. Noctis pulled up the blanket, allowing Regis to finally tuck him in.</p><p>-</p><p>When Gladiolus had been brought to the citadel that weekend, it was with the purpose of accompanying them out to one of the city parks. The coordinating had been handled early in the week, an earnest attempt by Regis to make time for himself and Noctis, and to foster the friendship he and Clarus were hoping to create between their sons. The plan had fallen to the wayside before they arrived, however; a now former glaive that had been identified to be an imperial spy in the early hours of the morning had taken three citizens lives during his escape attempt. Regis was not the one who dictated security proceedings, but found himself stuck in his office all the same, should the need for his leadership arise. Even if he was never called upon, public relations would never be able to spin him taking leisure time during the fallout in a positive light.</p><p>It was in the afternoon that he checked on the monitor in time to see Gladiolus shove Noctis away from him, who himself was a flurry of fists. He unmuted the feed, met with the crackling sound of distorted shouting.</p><p>Clarus heard too, striding from his post at the door to see for himself. The boys were being separated by Noctis’ caretaker, Esau, who thankfully was able to watch them at the last minute cancelation of Regis’ plans. The man squatted in front of Noctis to keep him from continuing his assault on Gladiolus, taking him by the hands when he attempted to slap him away.</p><p>Clarus was the one to hail a servant to retrieve their sons, and the one who took over the moment they were ushered into Regis’ office, snide faces showing that they had simmered little. Their bitterness was replaced with guilt as Clarus barked at them, Regis himself cringing at use of his title.</p><p>“Do you know how urgent the work His Majesty is in the midst of is? Do you think either of us would prefer to be down here today? Gladiolus, you know my expectations for your behavior.”</p><p>His shield let each sentence hang in the air before giving his next, watching as the boys sank in on themselves. Noctis was cowering, Regis was sure no one had ever spoken to him like that before.</p><p>“Noctis kicked me first.” Gladiolus said meekly when Clarus gave him permission to speak, looking him in the eyes as he did so.</p><p>“He started- he. He’s being mean!” Noctis cried, stomping his foot. “He called Ardy stupid!”</p><p>“If no one else can see ‘em they’re not real-“</p><p>“Is <em>that</em> what this is about?” Clarus looked at Regis incredulously. In the moment, he found himself shaking his head, too shocked that Noctis reacted so harshly to know what to say. When he had shadowed his son amongst the candidates days prior, those watching him reported some small arguments Noctis had about Ardy, but none that had erupted into full on fights.</p><p>He let out the air that had been building in his chest. “Noctis,”</p><p>Regis faltered. He never disciplined Noctis before, any reprimanding he received had been handled by those who minded him throughout the day. Even if Noctis’ actions were wrong, scolding him was a foreign act that left him uncertain.</p><p>“You can’t hit, Noctis.” He knew his response was a weak one.</p><p>“He started it!” his son protested.</p><p>Regis closed his eyes, breathing the way the therapist had recommended. It was already a difficult enough day knowing he had failed to deliver on the outing he promised his child, and now he was facing yet another challenge that he hadn’t prepared himself for.</p><p>He looked over them, Noctis and his angry tears reddening his cheeks, Gladiolus sneaking a glare, and finally Clarus. “How do you want to do this?”</p><p>The shield made sure that Regis could see his scowl, making no secret that he was judging how he was handling things.</p><p>“Gladiolus. Explain yourself.”</p><p>“I didn’t do anything,” he insisted, head shooting back up to face his father. “I just said he was making stuff up. He got mad and kicked me.”</p><p>“So you pushed him.”</p><p>“He hit me!” Gladiolus’ voice broke as he clenched his hands, looking like he was struggling to stay in place.</p><p>“That was on camera.” Regis muttered. Clarus gave him a look, seeming to ask, “Well, what are you going to do about this?” He supposed some sort of punishment would be needed in addition to the talk they were all having, though he was unable to think what kind would be suitable.</p><p>“Boys,” Clarus said, deciding not to wait Regis out. “Whoever started it doesn’t matter. Both of you fought so both of you will apologize. Gladiolus, you and I will talk tomorrow.”</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“Properly, Gladiolus.”</p><p>Gladiolus pressed his lips together, turning to Noctis resentfully.</p><p>“I’m sorry for pushing you. And for calling your friend stupid.”</p><p>Noctis didn’t move to accept the apology, folding his arms in frustration.</p><p>“Noctis, you as well.” Regis urged.</p><p>“He’s being mean. He’s wrong, he-“</p><p>“Noctis.” his eyes flickered between his son and Clarus, exasperated. “You have to apologize too. You aren’t supposed to hit.”</p><p>“Sorry.” He growled, eyes focused on the floor.</p><p>Clarus whirled on him the moment the boys were led out. Regis tossed a hand up, choosing to fall back into the nearest armchair.</p><p>“He hasn’t fought anyone before. I assumed you’d know how to handle it better.”</p><p>“Clearly.” Clarus walked slowly to the opposing seat, tassels swaying as he joined Regis. “I’m going to cancel the next time Gladiolus is invited to play with someone. You need to punish Noctis too. His reaction was over the top.”</p><p>Clarus remained unyielding in his lead over the situation, but thankfully softened some. “Just talk to him. Explain why it was wrong, and the next time he asks you for something remind him why he can’t have it.”</p><p>“I know.” Regis sighed. “I just don’t want to be too tough on him.”</p><p>“You won’t be. Keep it simple,” Clarus gave him a small, much needed smile, easing Regis’ nerves instantaneously. “You know what too much looks like.”</p><p>-</p><p>Regis eventually was permitted to retire for the evening, with the knowledge that he may be called back at any moment should the situation escalate. He dismissed the staff upon arriving home, surprised to hear Noctis had put himself down so early. True to their word, he found his son with an exhausted look on his face, the dip of his nose glistening and his eyes shut tight.</p><p>He jostled him, and Noctis blinked, frowning at being pulled from the beginning of sleep.</p><p>“Hey, you’ve still got a few hours before bedtime.” Regis commented, met with a whine Noctis held in his throat. “We could spend some time together.”</p><p>Noctis rolled over, pulling the blanket up so Regis couldn’t see his face.</p><p>“I want to go out.” He demanded through clenched teeth, still cross from before.</p><p>“I’m sorry Noctis. I wanted to as well.” He said, crestfallen as he stroked his son’s hair. “You know the work I have is important, don’t you?”</p><p>“No. I want to go now.”</p><p>They couldn’t, of course, as much as Regis wanted to. The security issue aside with the city reacting to the breach, Clarus’ words were echoing in his head, reminding him that Noctis needed to be punished for earlier.</p><p>“We’ll have to try another time. You fought with Gladiolus today, remember? I don’t want you doing that anymore.”</p><p>Noctis jolted back from his hand. “No.”</p><p>Even though he couldn’t see Noctis’ face, the pain and stubbornness in his voice made Regis regret bringing it up.</p><p>“We can try again soon.” He promised. “You can see some of the other children in the meantime.”</p><p>“I hate them. They’re mean.”</p><p>“How have they been mean to you?”</p><p>Noctis voice was muffled, only somewhat comprehensible.</p><p>“They called Ardy ‘maginary.”</p><p>Of course it would be that, just like Gladiolus that afternoon. Giving Noctis a chance to interact with his potential advisors hadn’t just been a way to determine who would best suit him. Regis had hoped, as he attempted to consider Noctis’ friend as some kind of game or coping mechanism like those around him did, that being able to be amongst children his age would cause the problem to fade. Noctis only doubled down however, aggressively so.</p><p>In a way, Regis had to admire him for it, knowing that a part of himself still searched for a missing detail that would justify his own reaction months ago. Yet, the dead end he had arrived at urged him to consider what everyone else had already decided. The cameras yielded no cause for further alarm, and Noctis reported no more disturbances. And if the carbuncle, when Noctis remembered to keep it nearby, provided any benefit, it wasn’t substantial enough to notice.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Noctis,” he said again, trying to wet his throat when his voice came out hoarse. “They may not like talking about him as much as other people do.”</p><p>“Esau does. And Miss Anna. And you.”</p><p>That was true, he and the therapist, <em>Anya</em>, he had to teach Noctis to say correctly, and his caretakers had all been more than permissive. Anya herself had encouraged him to remain open with Noctis, so he could feel comfortable going to him if anything bad were to happen. Now, it just felt he had enabled him to the point that he was damaging his chances to connect with others.</p><p>“It’s still early,” he decided a subject change was neutral. “You may stay up a little longer, if you want.”</p><p>Noctis’ hair finally disappeared under the blanket with a huff, only a small tuff remaining. Regis carefully arranged the blanket so he would be able to breath easily, which Noctis permitted, keeping his body stone still to prove he had immediately fallen asleep. Neither that nor an earnest “I love you.” yielded any change. He left the room, pausing after closing the door to stretch out his leg. His knees had not taken well to being pressed into the floor.</p><p>In the entire year, Astrals, it was nearly a year now, he hadn’t seen Noctis look so sullen. Even when he found Noctis spacing out, he had been blank rather than sorrowful.</p><p>A flash of anger came over him just as his knee cracked, mixing insidiously with his remorse. No matter how much effort he put into making time, even if he somehow managed to scrape an hour for himself, he was still denied the opportunity to spend it with his son. He was a parent in name, but in reality a monarch playing the part for a collective hour per day, if he was lucky.</p><p>Today, when he had fully intended to devote himself, he was torn back to his desk, ensuring the maintenance of the monotony of simple nights between him and Noctis, where he could give so little in variety to please him. His memories of his father would be a blur of instances; a few recollected stories, being told Regis wouldn’t be there on time to say good night. Of, when he was there, having to sleep before they could do anything meaningful or different.</p><p>How would Aulea have handled any of it? Would she have been as concerned as he had when Noctis had first woken up, frightened and tearful, or have been the voice of reason he needed?</p><p>He found himself the nearest chair, propping his leg up to massage at the sides of his knee, trying to get the stiffness to subside.</p><p>He needed to visit her again.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“-ombs have been closed off to commemorate her passing, and to allow the royal family space as they remember-“</em>
</p><p>The radio was turned off with a sharp click, the low impact of Cor’s thumb jamming the button down. He didn’t need to be told to; Regis had begun pointedly avoiding news outlets a week or so ago. Too many programs, some new, some reruns from last year, had been cropping up to honor Aulea’s life leading up to the anniversary. He had an unfortunate muscle spasm that morning, accidentally flicking open a news feed on his phone to tasteless drivel. Try as he could to forget it, something about her being alive in Accordo, it burned its way into his mind and through his appetite, leaving him barely able to so much as drink his coffee.</p><p>“Are we going to the cave?”</p><p>Noctis had asked him that morning over breakfast – it figured the one time he could sit with his son that he himself would be unable to eat – before they departed. They returned to their chambers when Regis confirmed their destination, so Noctis could retrieve the card his tutor had helped him with. It was a messy thing, layers of colored paper held together by clumps of glue that had picked up fuzz and hair from the floor from when Noctis had dropped it on the carpet. Anya found the gesture to be an excellent idea.</p><p>The tombs were refurbished for the anniversary, far more modestly than last year. The lighting had been adjusted to keep the pathway brighter, Regis’ own request for when Noctis was brought along. Though somewhat harsh for his own taste, Noctis was noticeably calmer when able to see all corners of the tombs without shadows casting about.</p><p>It was no surprise to see a queen’s worth of flowers had been arranged once more when they made it to the end. They served as a colorful marker of where the maintained space ended and the off-limits section began, a gated off space that stretch miles deeper, prepared for future royals that would one day rest there.</p><p>Even though the space had been adjusted for him, Noctis still didn’t like to be let go of for more than a minute. His own visits to Aulea were significantly sparser than Regis’, though he himself was steadily allowing himself to miss a few here and there. Noctis would cling to him like a mountain climber to their rope, holding his father’s hand whenever he was set down.</p><p>Fingers crushed by him, Regis was led past the ropes and up close to the stone coffin. He was too short to reach the top himself, standing on his toes and trying to push the card upward.</p><p>“Do you need some help?” Regis asked, already lifting him. Noctis lay the card flat on top of the lid. “It’s been a few months. Tell her some of the things you’ve been up to.”</p><p>Slowly, Noctis began to recount what he could remember of the past few days. Regis coached him along, helping him tell Aulea what he had ate that morning, about the cat he was trying to catch in the gardens – a task in progress – what he was learning from his tutor, what he wanted for his birthday, and about the friends he was making.</p><p>“My friends are Gladio and. And Mica. And Esau and um, Mr…”</p><p>“Mr. Ravle.” Regis provided the tutors name.</p><p>“Yeah. And um Ardy is my best friend and he’s got red hair.”</p><p>Noctis listed others, mainly advisor candidates, and their hair color, laughing at the trivial detail.</p><p>“Noctis,” he interrupted. “Why don’t you tell her what you like to do with your friends?”</p><p>He breathed in, counting mentally. The request was self-centered, but the stream of names Noctis was giving suddenly feeling wrong to hear with the emphasis he had placed on Ardy’s importance.</p><p>“Gladio can fight, and he plays games and I watch. And we race and he’s really fast, but Ardy’s faster and I beat him a lot.”</p><p>The selfishness spread through him, as unjust as it was. Noctis, he knew, meant no harm in what he was saying, had no reason to think his words would somehow be painful for Regis to hear. Not once had he forced Noctis to witness any of the fear he held since the first time, and he doubted his son even realized he had caused any back then.</p><p>He couldn’t force those emotions onto Noctis, but he couldn’t bare them being at the forefront of his mind either. The space he had cultivated for their family here was supposed to be separate, to clear his head instead of muddle it.</p><p>“One time, Ardy pulled all of his hair out, and he didn’t cry because he’s-“</p><p>“Noctis,” he flinched at the sound of his own voice, too loud, echoing off the walls. He held him close, trying to be gentler. “Do you remember our talk a few nights ago?”</p><p>He didn’t look at Regis, but shook his head back and forth, quieting.</p><p>“We talked about,” Regis swallowed. “About how not every may want to talk about Ardy. Do you remember? Why don’t you share more about Gladiolus?”</p><p>Noctis glared, snapping, “No, mommy doesn't care. She’s not even real!”</p><p>Blood swirled in Regis’ ears as his son sneered at him, smacking the coffin and yelping as the force went back to his hand. Regis mouth dropped, and for the first time in months, the stability he strived to present at all times wavered, a burn behind his eyes threatening as the shock torn his insides out.</p><p>He was in the hospital wing again, at the threshold of her room, empty words distorting, unraveling before he could even comprehend their meaning. He was choking on nothing, ears ringing, body ridged as his heart was ripped from his chest once more.</p><p>Someone said they did everything they could.</p><p>Here they were, a year gone by with both of them stripped of Aulea, who wasn’t able to reassure Noctis that she was with him, couldn’t let Regis know whether or not he was making the right choice.</p><p>He could feel Noctis moving against him, hair fluffing under his chin, arms shifting upward, grabbing at it shoulders.</p><p>He was still stuck at the hospital, still completely unsure how to process or what he was supposed to do. His face muscles convulsed. The lighting reflected on the coffin, glittering against the black stone and set gold embedded in it. Dark, but standing out amongst carnations, screaming reality at him.</p><p>There was a feeling of wetness against this throat. Noctis. He still couldn’t move. Still couldn’t do anything but stand as his eyes darted to the coffin, the card, the tombstone. He couldn’t even fix the tightness in his jaw, couldn’t unclench himself from the spot as Noctis squirmed in his arms.</p><p>Aulea had long since crossed over the astral plane. All the dead end conversations, they couldn’t really be called that. She couldn’t actually commune, the answers he received were of his own imagination, conjurings of what she might say to keep him going, to get him to make the right choices for Noctis. And Regis had tried, asked, begged and prayed the Six to permit his one request on the worst of those sleepless nights. Unanswered. He could reach out for one hundred and twelve kings if he so chose, and regardless of his own thoughts on them, they were there, real, visible to the eye when called forth.</p><p>She wasn’t tangible anymore. She wasn’t carved stones and engraved words. She couldn’t read or look at cards. She didn’t speak. And so, after all Regis had done to conceal his on anguish, Noctis had tossed her aside. Made someone new.</p><p>The heaving noise under him alarmed him out of his state, his ears finally becoming his own. Constricted muscles loosened as he nearly dropped Noctis down, his son gasping as he finally broke free from the struggle Regis hadn’t even realized he had forced on him.</p><p>Astrals, he had his son in a death grip.</p><p>He stayed down on the floor with him, wanting to pull Noctis back, hug him properly this time. But the look of panic, the tear streaked face, the wheezing cough, terror that <em>he</em> had caused, forced him to stay rooted.</p><p>They couldn’t repeat this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me: The story is about Ardyn and Noctis<br/>Me: writes several chapters entirely for Regis' perspective. Ardyn has two lines.</p><p>Regis, like many in this story, isn't perfect. He creates and has to make use of his own fallout. It'd be idealist to have him be a Perfect Dad. I hope you'll stay with him as his story plays out, everyone has a long road they're carving out, and they're guessing which way to go at every turn. </p><p>I'm very much looking forward to giving the next chapter :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Oh, Star. Come here. It’ll be alright.” Ardy embraced him, and his body was soft and safe.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>One day, the other children were gone.</p><p>This meant that Noctis was the first to arrive in the study, giving him a sense of pride as he ran to greet Mr. Ravle. Because he was first, he was allowed to play by himself, and allowed to see the new books his tutor had brought. Mr. Ravle let him pick one to read later.</p><p>No one else showed up, even when a guard arrived, announcing that he would take Noctis to his father.</p><p>He was not allowed to bring the book in his arms, they explained, because they were going to the throne room. Sandwiched between two guards, Noctis wondered to himself as they made their way across the citadel why he couldn’t go on his own. He was much faster than either of those accompanying him.</p><p>Once he arrived, both guards bowed to him before the doors closed silently, leaving him inside. Dad stood at the throne, looking tiny from where Noctis stood all the way at the entrance. He was beckoned upward. The room had been cleared of others, and he had to shield his eyes the closer he came, the light coming in from the windows making his face and hands hot and the staircase shiny and difficult to look at.</p><p>Dad called him a second time when he stayed in place, hiding his eyes from the sun at the foot of the steps. He tried to make out Dad and the throne, taking notice that another kid was already by his side.</p><p>He picked up his pace when Dad’s voice came again, being careful not to move too fast. The throne was at the very top of the room, on a small platform that he had stood on once before.</p><p>At the time, he became frightened at the thought of falling, and clung to Dad until he agreed to hold him.</p><p>He kept himself as far from the drop as he could, pausing at the top as he tried to maintain his distance from the dizzying edge of the dais. His mind was made up for him with one last gesture, hurrying him to face the kid opposite of him.</p><p>Dad called him an advisor, and a brother. The kid, Ignis, held his hand out, staring at Noctis.</p><p>He didn’t know why people did that, stare. Grown ups often did this, and as he had learned in the past few weeks, the same went with kids. People were always watching him, even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong.</p><p>“Shake his hand, son.”</p><p>Noctis grabbed Ignis’ hand and pulled him closer, suppressing a giggle through clenched teeth as the boy stumbled forward, eyes bugging as they redirected to the edge of where the throne sat. He glanced at his Dad, who was smiling at the response, also finding it funny.</p><p>Dad’s hand rose, hovering for a moment. Noctis squeezed Ignis’ hand tighter, fixating on the movement, worrying he might stumble the wrong way. Briefly, he realized Dad might play with his hair like he usually did, but the hand dropped instead.</p><p>In stories, older brothers could sometimes be nice, but most of the time they were bossy and bullied their younger siblings, especially if the parents left them in charge. Noctis never had any brothers or sisters before, but he was a prince, even if Ignis looked older. And that meant that he was in charge of everyone, according to movies.</p><p>A new tutor had joined his own when Ignis and he were brought back to the study, though none of the missing kids had shown up. Both of them were sat down to practice letters and numbers, the tutors undeterred by the emptiness of the room.</p><p>Because Ignis’ name was shorter, he was able to write it faster than Noctis could his own, and got to spend time with the other tutor while Noctis finished the assignment. Mr. Ravle sat right next to him, guiding his hand to trace along the arrows on the paper until his name was finished.</p><p>After that Mr. Ravle finally read the book he had picked out earlier. He asked Noctis to name his favorite parts of <em>Who Was The Rogue Queen? </em>when they were finished, letting him flip through it himself to find the page where she was pictured next to the shadowy body of a violent foreign king.</p><p>The Rogue never got hurt in the story. Not even once.</p><p>He wandered to the shelf where the toys were kept after that. There were many here that he didn’t have upstairs, including a container filled with animal figures that he liked. Its weight caused it to tip down and spill once he had pulled it free from its place, his arms falling with the force as the sound of plastic clattering against plastic tumbled about the room.</p><p>“You need to tell us if you want to change activities, okay Your Highness?”</p><p>Noctis’ body jolted, stepping back from his tutor’s voice and nearly losing his footing over the mess of animals, container remaining gripped in hand. Mr. Ravle was smiling at him, not moving to do anything more, so Noctis sat himself down to begin organizing the animals.</p><p>There were four bright yellow chocobos that stood out amongst everything else, so he put them all together first. There were a few daemons mixed into the pile as well, so he sorted them away from the chocobos.</p><p>“Your Highness, can you tell me next time when you want to change activities?”</p><p>He nodded impatiently.</p><p>“Ignis, take a break and come play.”</p><p>The other boy joined a few seconds later, sitting on his knees in front him. Noctis had moved to the floor, now on his stomach so he could reach everything more easily. He placed an imp in the second pile he had started.</p><p>“Do the daemons go over here?”</p><p>One of the tutors cleared their throat as Noctis looked up. Ignis’ eyes flickered their way before returning his attention to him, adding “Your Highness?”</p><p>He seemed to get the idea, so Noctis handed him a... well he wasn’t sure what this one was called, but Ignis sorted it into the daemon pile, and began to sort on his own, adding to what Noctis had started. Ignis made the daemon pile grow and grow while Noctis chose to grab whichever animal was closest to him.</p><p>But then Ignis tried to place the fish in his nice animal pile. He snatched it away before it left Ignis’ hand, smacking it to the side.</p><p>“Is it the wrong spot… Your Highness?”</p><p>Noctis snorted. Ignis really thought that the fish belonged with the animals. It was a fish. It didn’t even have fur.</p><p>He was smart enough to stick to the regular furry animals after that, which he got right. The last of them could be sorted easily enough, except for an octopus that Noctis contemplated for a moment before deciding to put next to the rest of the fish.</p><p>“Do you like animals, Your Highness?”</p><p>Noctis nodded, whining a little when Ignis didn’t say if he liked them back. It didn’t matter too much, because now that they had finished the piles, he could start playing. He grabbed a silver coeurl and a rabbit, and smashed them together, imagining their cries.</p><p>Once the rabbit was dead, the coeurl went after bigger prey, both of the anaks from the nice animal pile at the same time. He imitated their dying breaths by making his own breathing as labored as he could.</p><p>Ignis didn’t join in. He wasn’t playing with any of the animals, just staring, making Noctis’ stomach feel as if it were sinking deeper inside of him, a cloudy sort of discomfort. He wrinkled his forehead and trying to ignore him.</p><p>“Are you okay, Your Highness?”</p><p>This time he growled, the noise gargling in his throat. No other kid had ever stared at him so up close like Ignis did, and very few of them would ask annoying questions and ended each of them with “Your Highness” like Ignis did. He set down the anaks, taking the coeurl in both hands so he could feel along its rubbery whiskers, making them bend back and forth.</p><p>Ignis was still staring.</p><p>He delivered his best sneer back, scrunching his nose and squinting to make his eyes narrow and menacing.</p><p>It didn’t make Ignis stop, so, holding the coeurl by its whisker, he whipped it at Ignis knees. He yelped, scooting backwards. Mr. Ravle was by their side in an instant, replacing Ignis’ presence with his much larger one, asking Noctis to tell him what happened.</p><p>It was clear what was going on though. Ignis wouldn't stop staring at him and bothering him with questions that had obvious answers. Tears prickled at his eyes as his breathing began to change, faster and angrier and-</p><p>Mr. Ravle’s arms on his shoulders, boxing him in place.</p><p>He put his hands out as the arms began to encircle him, trying to keep himself from being drawn closer, but his tutor was bigger, stronger.</p><p>“It’s okay, Your Highness. I’m sorry he upset you.”</p><p>That didn't matter. He didn’t care about stupid Ignis and whatever he was trying to say while Noctis attempted to bend downward, out of the tutor’s arms. He was gaspy and tears were spilling on his cheeks now and he couldn’t <em>breathe</em>.</p><p>He stopped struggling and tried hitting Mr. Ravle with his fist, prompting the man to finally let him go. Noctis ran, hitting his tutor’s arm out of the way. The other tutor was staring at him too now.</p><p>The door was not blocked off by anyone on the inside. Noctis yanked the knob as hard as he could, then twisted it and yanked again, fleeing into the hall. A guard called from him, and he picked up his pace.</p><p>Mr. Ravle was supposed to be nice.</p><p>The elevators were in the opposite direction from which he ran. This floor wasn’t one Noctis knew too well outside of the path from there to the study. The halls were narrow and mostly empty, aside from a table to the side or a large plant every now and then.</p><p>The next corner he rounded caused him to skid, nearly colliding with a cart and the woman steering it. She moved to block him off, but he pushed her back, cutting off what she was saying and picking up the chase again.</p><p>He didn't make it much farther after that. Hands found his shoulders yet again, turning him cruelly as he shut his mouth in terror, facing the guard who had been chasing him down.</p><p>“Highness, you’re giving everyone a fright running off like this.”</p><p>He kept his mouth clamped shut, body starting to shake with tears he didn’t want the guard to see.</p><p>“What’d you run for Highness?”</p><p>Noctis knew he was in trouble, leaving a room without a guard was against the rules, and this one was especially intimidating, with his stern face, strong hands, and gravelly voice.</p><p>The need for air finally won against the need to keep quiet, causing him to suck in a jittery breath. The hands on his shoulders moved down, slow, looser then they were initially, returning upwards, continuing in a reassuring motion. It didn’t make breathing easier, but he felt his face begin to dry some, tears finally stopping.</p><p>He dared to look at the guard, who smiled. Noctis stiffened, but the guard didn't stop. This time, Noctis finally let the air out of his lungs, feeling normal after a few more minutes.</p><p>“Ready to go, Highness?”</p><p>He tensed again.</p><p>“We’re going to have to. We can sit for another minute but after that I’m taking you back, alright?”</p><p>It wasn’t alright. Noctis wanted to go back to his room, to lie down and sleep. But he didn’t know how to get back to the elevators from here, and the guard would chase him again, would very likely get much angrier for having to do it a second time.</p><p>So Noctis went with him. Ignis apologized when they returned, and Mr. Ravle let him take a nap in one of the beanbag chairs kept in the reading corner, until it was time to go home.</p><p>-</p><p>It had been a long time since Dad had made it home for dinner, even longer than it had been since he last saw Noctis before bed. Usually it was exciting for him to be early, but this time Noctis ducked his head down when he saw his father waiting in the dining room.</p><p>He slunk to the seat next to the head of the table, the plating signaling for them to be next to each other on a rare experience such as this. A servant helped him into his chair and pushed it in. Food had already been laid out on his plate, so he kept his eyes there, poking at cut up bits of chickatrice.</p><p>While he ate, Dad asked a few questions about Ignis and tutoring. He made sure to eat faster, and Dad left him alone for a bit, beginning to work on his own food.</p><p>“I’m going to take some leave. Time off.”</p><p>Noctis stopped mashing at the vegetables on his plate, looking at Dad with interest. He smiled at him.</p><p>“It’ll be a few weeks before we can, but we’ll be able to spend some time together. A week at least. I was thinking we’d leave the citadel and see something new. Would you like that?”</p><p>He found himself nodding. He wasn’t sure where they’d go, but it sounded like a vacation.</p><p>“Good. You can tell me if you want to go anywhere special.”</p><p>Dad continued to look at him, and Noctis kept quiet. He didn’t know any special places.</p><p>“Did you know that I used to go camping with Clarus and Cor? We’d sleep in a tent outside.” Dad hummed, as if that were funny. “Well, we didn’t always have a tent. If you want though, we can do that. Gladiolus can come too.”</p><p>Outside. Noctis looked down at the vegetables, a smile of his own growing on his face. It’d be fun to go into the gardens, and have a fire, and marshmallows. He had seen that in a cartoon.</p><p>“It looks like you’d like that.”</p><p>Yes.</p><p>“I’ll tell them we’re planning on going. It’ll be fun, Noctis.”</p><p>Dad picked up his fork again, and Noctis sat with him until he had finished, thoughts of cooking food on a fire and hiking between trees conjuring in his mind.</p><p>-</p><p>Ignis wasn’t so bad, Noctis realized.</p><p>Even if he was mean at first, he was good at reading, and writing, and sorting. They had the same interests; animals, daemons, and racing, which Ignis wasn’t good at. Noctis was faster than both him and Ardy now, so he won every time, as long as Gladio wasn’t there too.</p><p>Gladio had started asking him a lot of questions lately, but they were mostly alright; things like what video game he wanted to watch him play, or which sword he wanted to use when they fought. He didn’t like it as much when he asked things like “Can you say this, Noctis?” but Gladio had also convinced Ignis to not say “Your Highness” so much. He also taught Ignis how to play Mooglecart so all of them could race at once. Noctis won a few times, even though he was younger.</p><p>Another good thing about Ignis was that he could draw, and offered to make art for Noctis. He could draw lots of animals, and people too. Noctis and Gladio, and himself. Gladio’s dogs, from a picture Gladio showed on his phone, and when Noctis brought him carbuncle, he drew that too, letting Noctis add the red horn to the picture.</p><p>Since he was no longer staring as much, and since he didn’t interrupt when Noctis would whisper to Gladio, he decided it would be okay to tell Ignis how to draw Ardy. He helped him by passing the right colors. Ignis didn’t quite get his clothes right, which was annoying because he made Noctis repeat himself, so he had no reason <em>not</em> to get it right. He refused to explain after the second time.</p><p>After that, he added Noctis next to Ardy. Ignis wasn’t good at drawing trees, but that was okay.</p><p>-</p><p>The math that Noctis had to do was far more complicated than what Ignis was learning. Ignis only had to write his answers down, or sometimes say them out loud. Noctis needed to use tokens and point to numbers on a sheet to give his answers. He would rather have just stacked them and press them between his thumbs until they exploded across the table.</p><p>The easy way to get the right answer was to point at numbers that seemed right, because eventually he’d be able to guess the correct one. Mr. Ravle told him that he had to use the tokens so he could be right on the first try.</p><p>“You’re close.”</p><p>“No, let’s use these so you don’t have to guess.”</p><p>“Ignis, you’re finished. Help His Highness.”</p><p>Now he’d have two people telling him he’s wrong. The thought made him feel sick, so he wriggled out of his chair and headed for the reading corner.</p><p>Ms. Anya said he could walk away when he got upset and find an adult he likes, but there weren’t any adults he liked here, and Mr. Ravle wasn’t leaving him alone, following him to the corner.</p><p>“We have to try just a little more, Your Highness.”</p><p>He moved one of the beanbags and pulled it over himself and the one he had laid down on, as if it were a blanket. He hid his face from view and held his breath until Mr. Ravle thought he was asleep, stopped trying to talk to him, and left.</p><p>-</p><p>On his birthday, there was one party for grown ups, and another for kids. Noctis recognized a few of them from before, but didn’t spend time with them. Dad came too, and stayed with him while he watched people arrive and pile presents that he would get to open after the party on a large table. Ignis never left his side, trailing behind him when Dad said it was okay to wander, and staring at him until Noctis slapped his arm.</p><p>He was better after that, still shadowing Noctis throughout the party, but when he got tired, he helped him with grabbing sweets, and snuck them both under the tablecloth to eat them where no one could see.</p><p>-</p><p>Instead of the gardens, Dad took him to a lakeside beyond the city, the water so large that it spanned out farther than Noctis could see. Maybe all the way to the wall.</p><p>The drive over wasn’t too bad, just long, even with Gladio teaching him to play games on his tablet. With him and Clarus in the car, it was much more crowded than Noctis liked. He slept most of the way.</p><p>Gladio helped him get unbuckled before sprinting off. He was the last one out, even including the guards who had come in the car behind them.</p><p>Dad waved him over to his side, and he trotted with him to where Clarus was waving them both over.</p><p>“Level ground here. Gladiolus picked it out himself.”</p><p>Noctis watched as Dad pulled two tents from the armiger, which Gladio pulled from their bags and piled up the parts of, which his dad then scrambled to organize. The majority of the construction was left to the grown ups, while Gladio fumbled with poles, connecting the pieces so they could be their full size before swinging them around his whole body. Clarus scolded him once, and then again when Gladio tried to hand Noctis one for him to use.</p><p>“Come here, Noctis. You can help too.”</p><p>His own dad was holding a spike. Not wanting to disappoint, he approached and took it, the coolness of the metal feeling good in his hands. Dad explained that they would jam it into the ground to keep the tent in place.</p><p>Then Dad’s hands were on his.</p><p>He froze, and Dad did too, before guiding the spike to a metal ring attached to the tent, telling him to press it as deep into the ground as he could. He helped push it with him, and let Noctis leave while he finished hammering it in.</p><p>“You can help with the next one if you want.”</p><p>“I can do it!” Gladio called.</p><p>He wasn’t stopped when he decided to head back to the car instead, the sounds of arranging tarp and metallic clanking of tools echoing in the air behind him. The guard that drove them was there to unlock it for him, joking that he ought to wait for the tent to go up first while she brought the car roof down.</p><p>The front seat was so warm though…</p><p>-</p><p>“Come on, we’re going to the lake!”</p><p>Swatting at the hands shaking him did little good. Gladio continued to jostle him until he let out a bothered noise, eyes opening blearily.</p><p>“Come on. We’re racing to the boat.”</p><p>By the time Noctis had his feet on the ground Gladio had made good on his announcement, taking off to where their fathers were waiting on the dock.</p><p>Noctis walked.</p><p>It was a fairly small boat, Noctis thought at first, until Clarus showed him steps hidden under the floor that led to a tiny space filled with unlabeled boxes, and a nook that he could hide in. Noctis recalled a book of pirates where they had hid treasure in a room like this; the boxes here had floating devices and ropes that crashed to the ground when he opened them, after which Noctis was pulled back up to the deck.</p><p>They were farther out now, the shore distant enough that the car fit between Noctis’ fingers when he held them up and squinted. The shattering sound of the armiger signaled Dad calling forth fishing rods and a large box that snapped open to reveal bait and string, and so much more.</p><p>After being told to be careful, and to not touch anything in a compartment filled with hooks, he was permitted to play with the colorful baubles while the others stood at the boat’s edge. Some had feathers and stringy tails that fanned across his fingers when he ran them across his hand. He especially liked the feel of one; a rubbery green fish of sorts that had a long thin tail.</p><p>He only wished the others wouldn't yell so much, their voices, mostly Gladio’s getting louder as a splash struck the boat’s side.</p><p>“Bit on the small side Reggie.”</p><p>“I’m warming up, the next one will be larger.”</p><p>“It’s so long! Can I hold it?”</p><p>“Noctis, take a look at what your dad’s caught.”</p><p>He did so, mouth parting at the size of the fish Dad was hauling over the railing. It wasn’t as big as the ones he had seen in the aquarium before, but it was right in front of him, out of the water and flailing its body like a flag in a storm, flickering water against his Dad’s shirt. Dad held it out to him.</p><p>“Do you want to try holding it?”</p><p>Noctis sat up and approached the fish, trying to pet it but getting whacked away by the tail. He slapped his own hands together, trying to pin it in place.</p><p>“Be gentle, it’s a living thing.” Dad came down to his level with a grunt, presenting the fish for him. He tried again, but the fish was a slippery thing and he couldn’t keep it in his hands for more than a few seconds before it broke free again.</p><p>“I can help you, Noct.” Gladio grabbed at the fish, just under the head before sliding his hands down towards the tail. “You can pet it now, see?”</p><p>With Dad holding the fish by the hook in its mouth and Gladio supporting its end, the frantic movement of the fish was reduced to exhausted wriggling. Its body tremored under his touch, and Noctis investigated its fins, which were spindly and flattened into the fish’s back at the disturbance.</p><p>The fish gave up not long after, and Dad pulled it back, grasping its neck before setting his rod to the side. With his free hand, he removed the hook from the fish’s mouth, making Noctis feel guilty for it having been hurt.</p><p>“It’s too small to eat, so we’re going to put it back together.” Dad explained, ignoring Gladio’s insistent comment that he could eat the entire fish himself. “Hold it right here where my hands are.”</p><p>He made sure to squeeze so it wouldn’t escape this time, and Dad guided him to the boat’s edge, draping the fish between the rails before releasing it, and Noctis’ hands.</p><p>He lost control over the fish instantly, as it shuddered, thrashing against the railing at the sight of water. He let it go, its body hitting the boat’s side before landing back in the lake with a plunk, sending ripples across the water’s surface.</p><p>“Great job, Noctis.” Clarus told him.</p><p>“Are you having fun?” Dad asked.</p><p>Some. He liked petting the fish.</p><p>-</p><p>“I didn’t realize it was getting this bad. I thought he’d at least talk with Gladiolus more by now.”</p><p>“The therapist said he’d reach out to people who are safe.”</p><p>Noctis groaned. The sleeping bag crushed against his face felt sticky, almost damp.</p><p>“He doesn’t talk to you either though. Wouldn’t you be a safe person?”</p><p>Noctis hated waking up when he was in the middle of something. It wasn’t even day yet, the tent still dark aside from the faint glow of fire outside.</p><p>“Sorry, that came out-“</p><p>“No, I’m the one at fault for this. I was the one who-“</p><p>He rolled onto his back, kicking Gladio to make room, and shutting his eyes tightly so he could get back to playing.</p><p>“You did fine with him today. It’s not like you can’t touch him anymore, right?”</p><p>It was too hot. Noctis found the zipper of the sleeping bag, and sat up to undo it.</p><p>“Hold on.”</p><p>Much better.</p><p>“They’re asleep.”</p><p>At least it was easy to go back.</p><p>-</p><p>It was a good weekend, Noctis decided, although he wished it had lasted a little longer. The citadel was familiar, and he missed his toys, but he’d like to do it again.</p><p>Maybe Dad would take them tomorrow.</p><p>-</p><p>Sometimes, after tutoring, Ignis would join Noctis upstairs so they could play, or go on walks with him and one of his caretakers.</p><p>“Would you like to play video games, Noctis?”</p><p>He had put on the tv already, so of course that's what they were going to do. Ignis asked a lot of questions like that. He wasn’t as smart as everyone said he was, but he did like the same games as Noctis, and even though Ignis was older, he was starting to beat him more often.</p><p>Ardy didn’t have video games. Noctis told him about them before, and he had to explain everything to him, but Ardy still didn’t get it. He was a little like Ignis in that way; smart, but always asking questions.</p><p>They’d have to play one together sometime, because-</p><p>“Noctis, are you ready?”</p><p>He smiled, and pressed the start button.</p><p>Since Ardy had never played before, that meant Noctis would always win against him.</p><p>-</p><p>“I’m happy to hear you’re continuing to offer more physical contact.”</p><p>“He still hasn't spoken to me though. I’ve remained open like you’ve said, but he’s stagnant.”</p><p>Currently, Noctis was working on a fish. Ignis showed him an easy way to draw them without taking his crayon off the paper, except to color them in, and Noctis had practiced until he was good enough to do it without help.</p><p>“You’ve taken a lot of steps to ensure he doesn’t feel obligated to speak with you or those around him. Even if it takes time, by keeping him from feeling put on the spot or embarrassed, you are maintaining an environment for him to do so when he’s ready.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Have there been any new exceptions?”</p><p>“Just his advisor. His shield is still trying, but I think he comes on a bit strong.”</p><p>So far, he had completed a red fish, a green fish, a purple fish, a light blue fish, and was now coloring in a yellow one.</p><p>“Tell me what they talk about.”</p><p>“I’m sure you can guess.”</p><p>He grabbed the dark blue next.</p><p>-</p><p>The ball was bigger for him than it was for Gladio.</p><p>“You have to use both of your feet Noct.”</p><p>He was.</p><p>“No, you’re supposed to dribble it, stop. I can show you.”</p><p>Gladio placed his foot on the ball, rolling it back towards him and causing Noctis to fall on his bottom. He didn’t even say sorry, just kept showing off how good he was, explaining why using two feet was better and complaining that Noctis wasn’t allowed to use his toes.</p><p>When he finally kicked it back to him, Noctis grabbed the ball, set it down, and used the toes of his feet to kick it as hard as he could back in his face.</p><p>It flew by his shoulder instead, barely managing to hit him at all. Gladio yelled at him before running to retrieve it. Noctis made his meanest face when he came back, and was left alone after that.</p><p>-</p><p>The game he was playing today was tricky, especially whenever the car hit a bump in the road and moved his hand in the wrong direction. It had a character from a show he liked in it, but it wasn’t quite like on tv, where she beat up bad guys. Instead, she ran around collecting coins and jumping over logs when he flicked his finger across the screen. So far he had… maybe a thousand. Or even ten thousand.</p><p>“You okay, Reg?”</p><p>He ran into a puddle, the character flickered several times, and the level started over.</p><p>“It’ll be okay. We’re going to be with you this time.”</p><p>The car stopped just as he reached the part he was at before- dying. Again. Noctis pushed the home button so he could play something else. The car doors opened and shut around him and Dad turned around to unbuckle him from his seat.</p><p>He knew how to get in and out by himself now, so he kicked Dad away until he backed off. Noctis climbed to the door, hopping onto the concrete.</p><p>And there was the open gate, the stone walls, the tomb entrance trailing off into the darkness.</p><p>There’s a trick he could do, maybe it’s the magic he and Dad have, where he can make his body weigh more than it actually did. He rooted himself onto whatever spot he was at and stayed put. He held onto the tablet, and made his body like a statue.</p><p>This was the place where Dad-</p><p>He wanted to scream when Dad came down in front of him. He didn’t grab him, but they were <em>here</em> and even if Dad wasn’t angry now he could be. And they could get lost inside, or stuck and trapped or the gates would be locked up and-</p><p>“Just breathe Noctis, like we were taught.”</p><p>What if no one came to get him out?</p><p>“I told you this morning where we were going. Clarus and Cor are coming with us, remember?”</p><p>What if they were down there forever like mom and-</p><p>“Give him a couple minutes Reg. We can try when he’s calmed down.”</p><p>“Noctis, follow my hand.”</p><p>He didn’t want to calm down. He wanted to go home. Dad stayed in front of him, now joined by Clarus, who squatted to the side, doing a hand motion he vaguely recalled Ms. Anya teaching them.</p><p>All Noctis wanted was to go back in the car, but his legs refused to move, still frozen in place but for his face quivering with tears he wasn't able to hold back. Eventually, Dad gave up on the motion, and simply kneeled on the ground until his cries subsided.</p><p>“Noctis, do you want to try going in?”</p><p>He shook his head so hard it hurt, shutting his eyes. Dad took his time before speaking again.</p><p>“Then, we’ll go home.”</p><p>He wiped his hand against his eyes, clearing up blurry vision. Dad had stood, looking between his shield and Cor, whose faces Noctis couldn’t read.</p><p>“I’m not going to force him.”</p><p>“Guess we’re going back.” Cor said with a sigh. Noctis heard the clicking of the car doors unlocking, and turned to open them, climbing in as quickly as he could.</p><p>-</p><p>His birthday came again. He knew to ignore the presents this time, instead beelining for the tables filled with cakes and cookies that he gathered up into a napkin and passed to Ignis. Once he had filled a second one for him – Gladio took care of his own – they headed back upstairs to play the game Dad had given him that morning.</p><p>The sweets got mushed together on the way up, so they wadded them into balls, which Noctis named super sugars and ate four of before becoming sick.</p><p>They were still delicious, so he hid the rest in the bedside drawer for later.</p><p>-</p><p>Ignis kept teaching him how to draw his own pictures, but they always came out wrong. His lines were too long and uneven, and he wasn’t able to scribble the color in without going over them.</p><p>It was still hard to find out of Ignis was actually smart or not, because today he asked if Ardy was real. Noctis rolled his eyes.</p><p>But Ignis was nice, so Noctis made sure to help him out by giving him the correct colors, and whispering what Ardy’s clothes looked like.</p><p>Ignis could never get that part right, but at least he was trying.</p><p>-</p><p>Dad picked him up from tutoring early.</p><p>Dad picked him up, which almost never happened, and meant that he had to start putting all the toys away. Mr. Ravle let him take the book about the Rogue Queen home because he cleaned up without being asked.</p><p>It was hard to walk while also looking at the pictures, especially with Dad’s hand hovering close behind him all the way to the elevators.</p><p>“Leave us.” Dad said while they waited for the elevator to come.</p><p>“Like hell, Regis.”</p><p>Noctis kept his nose in the book, shuffling to the corner next to the doors while Dad and Clarus followed him. The elevator did its usual bounce; a little drop before ascending, and today was matched with a hitch in Dad’s breath.</p><p>A few minutes later, the queen had killed the Niflheimr prince, and they were home.</p><p>“Clarus.”</p><p>“I’m staying the night.”</p><p>He ducked out of the elevator, heading into the entrance room while Dad followed.</p><p>Since Dad was home with Clarus, Esau wasn’t, which meant he had no one to play with. Noctis hoped he’d come by later.</p><p>“Noctis, come here. Please.”</p><p>Dad’s voice was quiet and scratchy, but it was also direct. He hugged his book to his chest, and turned back to Dad, taking his steps towards him reluctantly. Dad winced when he came down to his level.</p><p>His eyes looked wrong, rimmed red instead of white. Dad stared at him, and Noctis squeezed the book protectively.</p><p>“Can I hold you?”</p><p>Fingers ran along the edges of the pages, stopping at the corners to dig them under his nails as he looked around the room, stealing a look at Clarus before settling on a spot on the wall.</p><p>Dad hadn’t held him in a long time.</p><p>When he got up, Dad was shaking, but he didn’t grab him at least.</p><p>“Do you want to go to your room, Noctis?”</p><p>The question posed by Clarus was as good as a confirmation that he could leave. Neither he or Dad followed as Noctis disappeared to the bedrooms.</p><p>Inside, he put the book on his bed for later, and made his way for the shelf where he kept all his toys. It was hard to pick something out to do, too hard, Noctis realized after pulling out his action figures, stuffed animals, and miniature castle to put them all in. By the time everything was set up the way he liked, he was ready to play a video game instead. He left the mess where it was. A servant would come by later to clean it up before bed.</p><p>The tv was in the living room, with his nintendo and playstation hidden under the cabinet sitting below. Dad and Clarus were in the room too, talking about adult things and lowering their voices when he turned on the game. That was good, he’d be able to hear it better.</p><p>For the past few weeks, he had been playing the platformer Dad bought him for his birthday. Gladio helped him put a game guide on his tablet that showed him where to find all the secret items. It had pictures in addition to words, so Noctis could use the guide by himself.</p><p>The level he was on currently was all snow and ice, which caused him to slip on the ground almost everywhere he went. He had passed the controller to Ignis many times to have him solve it, but neither of them were able to figure out how beat the level yet.</p><p>Gladio said he didn’t have this game, which meant that Noctis would be the first of them to finish it.</p><p>Right now he was having trouble with a puzzle. The game guide provided an explanation of how to solve it, but no one was around that could read it for him. Even more troublesome, the pictures on the page were small and difficult to zoom in on without the screen moving with his finger all the time.</p><p>“They didn’t <em>tell me</em> when.”</p><p>Dad’s voice snapped through the air, loud and so unlike him. Noctis had never heard Dad shout before, not even when he was super angry. He rarely even got angry at people.</p><p>His character fell through the ice, and became trapped under the water.</p><p>“We need to go to another room. I told you-“</p><p>“I told <em>you</em> that you were dismissed.”</p><p>Doing his best to remain unseen, Noctis twisted his hunched body to see over the sofa, peaking just his eyes above the top.</p><p>“Fire me for all I care, we’re going to another room.”</p><p>They were mad at each other, Noctis realized.</p><p>Clarus and Dad exited the living room, neither looking happy about it, shutting the door behind them.</p><p>The death screen was taunting him, a black space where his character slowly spun between the words “continue” and “exit”. He clicked continue mindlessly, and was taken back to the start of the level, grimacing when he saw several item he collected had once again returned to their place on the map.</p><p>It took ages to get back to where he was before he had died, between dodging enemies and collecting everything all over again. He was finally moving forward when the tumbling noise of the doorknob announced Dad’s return. His steps were so silent that Noctis didn’t know until he sat down beside him that he was being joined. Dad caused the sofa to dip where he sat, and his hold on the controller grew taut.</p><p>He tried to focus on jumping between the platforms. They were snowy instead of icey, so he didn’t slip every time he landed on one, but they kept moving back and forth in the air, making each jump more challenging than the last.</p><p>Noctis walked the character back to the tip of the platform, turned around, and got a running start, hitting the jump button as he reached the edge. He exhaled when landing on the other side, and was able to repeat the process until he made it to the lair at the end of the trail.</p><p>“Nicely done.”</p><p>The controller felt a little slippery. He wiped it on his shirt.</p><p>It occurred to him that they never played video games together before. For all he knew, Dad was very good at them in secret. He had a tablet too, and because he was king, he’d be allowed to take it out whenever he wanted. Plus, he stayed up later than Noctis did. It was possible that Dad snuck into the living room after bedtime to play without Noctis watching.</p><p>Before entering the lair, he opened the guide again. There was a boss fight inside, and the picture showed the character using- oh, he had loads of those! And there were some body parts that were shiny in the pictures. He learned those were always the weak points. The move the character was using was hard though, and Dad watching only made the pressure to win worse.</p><p>A scene played when he was deep enough inside; the boss from the picture leapt at him, shuddering and making a groaning sound as text translated the noise on the screen. Noctis tried to read it, but it cut too quickly for him, and the battle began.</p><p>He started off with the move shown in the guide, hitting several spinning claws on the boss until they vanished from existence. A small scene confirmed his progress, and the music became faster and louder.</p><p>The boss switched its tactics, throwing rocks at him. Noctis ducked behind some rubble to avoid further hits. In the corner of the screen, he saw that his health was nearly completely gone. He turned the joystick, looking for health items only to see that they were on the other side of the room. He pressed forward, hoping, but got hit not even halfway across.</p><p>Only one more hit and he’d die now. Noctis kept pressing the stick, urging the character forward, and jumping for the next piece of rubble.</p><p>Another rock struck his side, and the character flipped in the air, landing lifelessly on the ground.</p><p>The death music triggered, taking him back to the black screen. Frustrated, Noctis gnashed his teeth together, so tensely that his whole jaw hurt from the pressure.</p><p>“It was a good try, Noctis.” Dad said, cutting off the music. “It looks like you can go again.”</p><p>Duh, he could, but now he had to start <em>all over</em> again. Dad didn’t get it. He didn’t know how the game worked or how hard it was.</p><p>Dad didn’t react right away, not to the controller crashing into the cabinet or the odd squeak that left Noctis’ mouth when he hurled it away. Noctis didn’t realize right away either, until he saw the scratch he had made, that he had done something wrong.</p><p>A warm hand on his shoulder, and he scrambled off the sofa, rushing to the controller and grabbing it from the floor. When he turned he saw Dad staring at him. He still had that weird look on his face, the one from earlier, but now it seemed even worse, sagging as if he were sad instead of furious.</p><p>“It’s okay. It’s an accident.” Dad said, not moving from his place. “It’s just an accident.”</p><p>That’s what Noctis thought too, but he didn’t return. Dad didn’t look mad, but…</p><p>“Come here.”</p><p>No.</p><p>“It’s alright, please come here.”</p><p>Dad sounded like he wanted to cry too.</p><p>He dragged his feet, feeling the carpet part under them as he shuffled closer, holding the controller with both hands, just in case.</p><p>Dad reached out. He stopped immediately.</p><p>“Noctis, please.” Dad’s voice was strained. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”</p><p>Dad found his opposite shoulder this time, and his stomach swirled at the softness of the touch. He braced himself.</p><p>The hand moved upward, along his neck-</p><p>He couldn’t breathe.</p><p>-and into his hair, like Dad used to do.</p><p>He didn’t press his fingers into Noctis’ scalp like, well, like he used to, the brushing so light it only whisked a few hairs out of place.</p><p>His face suddenly felt very hot, his eyes full as he sucked in a bit of his lower lip.</p><p>Slowly, Dad’s hand lowered, barely rubbing a spot that Noctis always liked.</p><p>He could sort of breath, but his chest was pulsing with hiccups as he did so, blinking tears out of his eyes.</p><p>Dad was crying too, holding onto his knee and looking… Noctis didn’t know.</p><p>Everything was too confusing. Dad didn't ever cry. He never yelled. The music of the game was too loud and Dad wasn’t angry, but sad that he had thrown the controller.</p><p>Noctis wanted to say sorry, but.</p><p>He opened his mouth, a wail coming out instead of the word Dad probably, definitely wanted from him. The realization that he couldn’t do it made him cry louder. Dad’s hand left him, concealing his face from Noctis.</p><p>He needed to say sorry. Dad was upset. He tried again, but another noise came out instead.</p><p>“Regis, what-“</p><p>Noctis startled, pulling back as Clarus fell to Dad’s side. He was even quieter than Dad coming into the room, as if he had warped right next to them.</p><p>“What happened? Talk to me.”</p><p>Dad didn’t respond, so Clarus turned to him instead.</p><p>“Noctis, are you okay?”</p><p>He sniffed. Couldn’t Clarus tell he was trying?</p><p>“Noctis, nod if you’re okay, shake your head if you’re not.”</p><p>He didn’t know. He was scared again. Was saying no lying? Would he be in trouble if he said yes?</p><p>“Damn it,” Clarus muttered, “What’d you do, Reggie?”</p><p>Dad rubbed his eyes, saying nothing. Clarus looked back to him.</p><p>“Go to your room, Noctis. It’s fine, you didn’t do anything wrong.”</p><p>He ran straight to bed, grabbing tonberry and hiding under the blankets. Even though he was by himself, he still couldn’t stop crying. Noctis rubbed his face against the pillow, trying to stop the itching where his tears were rolling down his face.</p><p>Sleep didn’t come, even though it was what Noctis wanted. Instead, he laid there until he was just sniffling, leaving a glistening spot on tonberry. Snot. He rubbed him against his shirt until the spot was just a darkened shade of green.</p><p>This time Dad knocked before coming in, and Noctis held still until he got to the bedside. The room was darker then earlier, he realized. He’d been in bed for a while, and it was probably past the time he was supposed to be asleep.</p><p>“We’re going to have dinner, Noctis. Ready to go?”</p><p>He turned over, not expecting Clarus to be the one checking on him, or for him to sit right on the floor instead of the chair.</p><p>“You look wiped out, kid. Want to sit with me, or am I going to be stuck down here by myself?”</p><p>Clarus’ smile was weird and lopsided, almost disappearing until Noctis slide down to the floor, taking a corner of the blanket with him.</p><p>“I’m sorry about your game. Your dad told me you were really good at it. He wants to watch you play again, if you’ll let him.”</p><p>Dad enjoyed watching him. Noctis kept his eyes on his toes, not sure what to say to that.</p><p>“I don’t think he’ll be able to play with you tonight, but I’ll help him find time to watch again.” Clarus paused. Noctis could see his fingers tapping on his leg before he continued.</p><p>“Your dad’s feeling a little sick today,” he explained. “He’s going to be that way for a little while, but he’ll get better.”</p><p>But that couldn’t be right. He hadn’t heard Dad coughing or sneezing. He hadn’t seen him throw up.</p><p>“It’s his heart, buddy. It’s hurting a lot, now. Now,” Clarus’ hands rose, flexing as Noctis jerked his head up, eyes widening at the revelation that Dad was <em>that</em> sick. “He’ll be okay. But he’ll get better soon if you help him out, alright?</p><p>“I know you don’t like talking much, buddy, but if you even say one word for him? It’ll mean the world to him. Your dad loves you, Noctis. It’d mean a whole lot if you showed him a bit a love too.”</p><p>He threaded his fingers between his toes, looking to Clarus suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He really did try to say sorry.</p><p>“We still have dinner to get to,” Clarus held a hand out, his awkward smile returning. “Can you help me up?”</p><p>The hand eventually fell, but the smile did not.</p><p>“Eh, figured not.” Clarus got himself off the floor, and Noctis did the same.</p><p>-</p><p>“Would you like a story before bed?”</p><p>A little.</p><p>“I’ve got one about your mother and I, only if you want it. We could read your book instead.”</p><p>He tucked <em>The Rogue Queen</em> under the covers, pressing it close.</p><p>“Would the one I mentioned be okay?”</p><p>Noctis nodded quickly. Dad would feel better after talking about mom.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“Again."</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>No one cleaned up his toys for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>All the thanks in the world to strawberryblue, who volunteered to beta this monster of a chapter. Your feedback really brought everything together.</p><p>I've been writing chapters 5 and 6 alongside this one for pacing purposes. Very happy that there was no delay in uploading. That said, its safe to say now that chapters will be put up once per month : )</p><p>Noct's a fun kid to write. I'll try not to over explain his mutism, nevertheless, I'm compelled to say at least once that it is NOT defiant behavior, and Noct's personal case is multifaceted.<br/>How reliable of a narrator do you think Noctis is? :D </p><p>Please continue to mind the tags as they update along with the story.</p><p>Thanks again to everyone whose commented, I'm not kidding when I say your responses fuel me. I read them whenever the process gets tough.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ready to go?”</p><p>The words he was able to process, but acting on them was a different story. Since returning to the apartment yesterday, Regis had little motivation to do more than sit, and none to return to his duties.</p><p>“You know I’ll be the first to defend your right to stay cooped up. I told them last night that you were only to be disturbed in an emergency.”</p><p>With Noctis gone for the day, there wasn’t much else to do but breathe. The feeling of his chest rising and collapsing served as his main point of focus as he tried to overcome the swarm of thoughts in his head.</p><p>“They’re asking for you though, and “family crisis” isn’t going to hold them off unless you or I disclose exactly what you’ve learned.” Clarus was standing before him, staring down his sorry, slumped posture. No doubt he was trying to identify any piece of him that indicated he was paying attention, waiting out for a griping response that Regis couldn’t bring himself to come up with.</p><p>“I’m going to keep the nobles from your door, but we have to come up with something soon. They aren’t going to wait much longer.”</p><p>He forced himself to acknowledge Clarus, eyes remaining glazed over, stoic, but readable to his lifelong friend.</p><p>A hand fell heavy on his shoulder.</p><p>“We’ll think of something. Let me know if you need anything.”</p><p>-</p><p>The next several days were a blur.</p><p>Following the grim task of reporting all that the prophecy had detailed to him, shock swept over those permitted to be in the know. Motions to analyze the situation came as quickly as suggestions on how to act upon it. Urges to alert the spiritualists and receive consultation, an immediate transfer of the information to the Oracle, even, from some tone deaf council members, genuine intrigue that they’d witness such an event unfold in their lifetime.</p><p>And, when Regis finally agreed to attend a council eager to discuss, their hammering words demanding details he didn’t have, coming as coldly and thoroughly as those from the Lucii themselves.</p><p>“Tenebrae has yet to return their interpretation of your transcript.” Councilwoman Gima said, in her usual droning voice. “Has His Majesty consulted with the old kings since their initial revelation?”</p><p>“They have remained silent,” Regis kept his voice swift and confident, earning him several disappointed looks.</p><p>“We must try to uncover further elaboration on when this prophecy is meant to take place,” another said. “While it is momentous to know that Lucis will soon claim its success over this… darkness,” The word came hesitantly, yet another unclear detail of the prophecy that they were still theorizing on, “our preparation will ultimately be hindered if we do not receive clarification from the Lucii. Nevertheless, we have identified a few strategies for review.”</p><p>Regis’ eyes narrowed as she lifted one of the files.</p><p>“First, prepare His Highness to ascend the throne as planned, but at an accelerated schedule. The prince should be ready to fight this darkness in any form it manifests itself.”</p><p>A round of nods went across the table, putting him on alert. It was a tactic he’d seen his whole life, unison as a means to bring the outsider to heel on whatever topic being discussed.</p><p>“Something will also need to be done about his behavior. There’s been no progress on his speech problem?”</p><p>“He maintains minimal, but consistent verbal communication with his advisor and future shield.” Regis said carefully. “I’m confident he will continue to expand his circle with time.”</p><p>“How much time, Your Majesty? It’s been years since the prince has withdrawn. Surely there is some way to expedite his progress.”</p><p>“He is five years old,” the statement slipped from his mouth automatically. “There is only so much that can be demanded of him.”</p><p>“I meant no offense Your Majesty,” Gima bowed her head. “We only wish to ensure His Highness will behave as expected as he begins to learn his role here.”</p><p>“We” was not lost on Regis, another purposeful act of unity throughout the council.</p><p>Councilman Daos took over.</p><p>“We will certainly continue to support His Highness as he ages, in matters of the prophecy, and in his future as king. However, we must anticipate that these two factors may play against each other down the line.” Daos paused, looking him directly in the eyes. “His Highness’ sacrifice could come at any time, and measures must be taken, should it claim him prematurely.”</p><p>His jaw tightened before Daos continued, the pieces knitting together the grave way everyone spoke with his own scattered thoughts of the past week.</p><p>“We would not be remiss to have another heir ready to take the helm. Having an alternative could prove useful if His Highness becomes too unstable to sufficiently lead –”</p><p>Regis kept himself trained on the Daos’ mouth, fury coursing through him as the case was made. The answer was no.</p><p>“We can certainly consider it,” He responded once Daos had finished, jaw tight with effort from holding back. “For now, the prince will be raised as he always has been. We will watch for signs of this coming darkness, and await word from the Oracle on how to best to approach this situation. We needn’t waste resources until we are certain of the best course of action, lest our efforts turn out counterintuitive.</p><p>“There is also the Hexatheon to consider,” he ignored the balking from the council. “In the report given by the spiritualists, it is predicted that the Six will be awakened for the ascension of the true king, although there has been no change in any of their status’ since the revelation.”</p><p>“And should they wake tomorrow? What is to become of the line of succession?” a member snapped. “We cannot just expect that the Lucii will give any further elaboration. We must prepare His Highness the best we can, and we must also assume it possible that he will not live to take the throne.”</p><p>“While some may hold the gods in such low regard as to believe they would claim a child’s life,” Regis’ clenches his fists, kept hidden under the table. “And while some may believe a child capable of such an undertaking, I do not share the same sentiments. I wonder if you’ve considered that the Lucii are speaking now to ensure that the prince is given the needed guidance for his task. Their communication is on His Highness’ behalf, not an urge to cast him aside.”</p><p>Blood coursed through his ears as barely masked rage inflicted his voice. He left no room for question amongst the council, even as he was met with the disapproval plain on their faces.</p><p>He would not allow his family to be replaced.</p><p>“Then, we will just bide our time?” Gima asked.</p><p>“This is not a time for rash decisions.” Regis glared at her, at all of them. “We will revisit the discussion the moment a change in our circumstances occurs.”</p><p>And he refused to say another word on the subject.</p><p>-</p><p>All of his spare time was devoted to Noctis now. Mornings began with checking on him, and briefings were sent directly to the apartments rather than his office, to be skimmed over until it was time for breakfast. After, he would walk Noctis to tutoring himself, making sure he remembered to bring along whichever book he had borrowed in the past few days. In the afternoon, he paused whatever business he was going about to see Noctis back home, and, each evening he could afford, he would offer to read to him. Noctis never agreed, preferring to look at the pictures when Regis was gone.</p><p>He canceled his own therapy sessions, the time feeling decidedly better to use on his son. Any critique he received for it was pushed to the back of his mind. The hour – just one, weekly hour – was for Noctis.</p><p>For himself, it made all the difference. Their play was stilted, nothing like the easy participation Noctis used to invite, and often he’d simply put on one of his games. Regis did his best to follow along, Noctis one day surrendering to him the guide he had opened on his tablet. Clicking through the maze of links eventually brought up an image matching Noctis’ surroundings in the game. His usefulness faltered after that, having no idea what half the damn thing was talking about, and eventually Regis downloaded the guide to his own tablet, to be perused after Noctis was put to bed.</p><p>Months passed like this, and though the prophecy weighed heavy on his heart, Regis felt there was some silver lining to be had from that evening he had spent with Noctis the same day he had learned his fate. He was no longer shying away as horribly as he used to, even if he remained silent as ever.</p><p>It was nothing that Regis wasn’t used to at this point. Noctis would keep quiet around him, communicating only with the occasional gesture or grunt indicating some sort of want, and saving what little whisperings he had for either Gladiolus or Ignis.</p><p>There were many instances in which Ignis would be escorted up to the apartment along with Noctis after his tutoring, and Regis would find himself lingering about, straining his ears in hopes of catching a murmur of his son’s voice. He had no such luck of course, often having to rely on the performance reviews he obtained from Ignis’ supervisor.</p><p>The notes were mostly positive, praising the young advisor’s ability to pull brief conversations from Noctis, and detailing, per Regis’ request, the majority of their interactions. Although he was not required, Gladiolus was also prone to reporting to Clarus whenever Noctis spoke, a huge, approval seeking smile on his face each time.</p><p>Even the most mundane of them Regis devoured.</p><p>
  <em>Noctis told Ignis to play his video game for him, and slapped him on the wrist when rejected. Ignis de-escalated the situation by encouraging Noctis to play on his own.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ignis encouraged leadership by following instructions from Noctis during play.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ignis encouraged speech by asking questions when Noctis described playing with Ardy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ignis encouraged pro-social behavior, thanking Noctis for complementing a picture he had drawn.</em>
</p><p>Anyone else would have glossed over such trivial accounts, but Regis clung to each insight into Noctis’ world. He knew it was his own presence that quieted him, but he was compelled to sit in a few times on him and Ignis all the same. Just getting to watch Noctis in a moment he might be happy, enjoying time with a friend, was enough.</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis agreed to more stories. Each night, because Regis refused to miss a night now, Noctis would curl in on himself, bringing a plushie or even a book to his chest, nodding silently at his offer.</p><p>“She was the mastermind behind it. We never told Cor of course, on the chance that she would want to claim responsibility herself. And she did, immediately after we returned from the frontlines. Didn’t even have to say a word, the look on her face gave it away. He went red, and wouldn't look at her for weeks.”</p><p>Noctis didn’t react much, watching Regis for the first few minutes typically, until his eyes gradually drifted across the room, drooping shut not long after.</p><p>He finished all the same, even when Noctis was clearly asleep midway through. Not every story was about Aulea. He made sure to mix it up so that Noctis would not grow tired of the stories, trying to find ones that might make him laugh or smile. It didn’t happen often, but when Noctis was at last sleeping, his lips would curl upward, looking content. Regis would watch until his face fell neutral, relieved to know he had done something right.</p><p>-</p><p>Dad was home more often now.</p><p>He talked a lot, saying helpful things like where he had to go in his game, or asking questions about how to play with action figures. Noctis would hand him the ones he could use when this happened, but wasn’t sure how to teach Dad. It was just playing.</p><p>Every night, Dad asked if he could tell him a story, and every night Noctis said yes, hoping that he would feel better afterward.</p><p>He hadn’t gotten angry in months, so the stories must have been helping.</p><p>Dad was okay, but tutoring was not.</p><p>Mr. Ravle kept trying to teach him harder things, like sounding out the letters in words so he could spell them by himself. Reading practice was just as bad. Ignis showed off by reading grade 2 books by himself, while he was handed worksheets where he had to trace letters and match words with pictures. They were very simple. He didn’t even have to read the instructions because he had been given sheets like this before.</p><p>Sure, he got a few wrong, but it was hard work.</p><p>Ignis then got told that he had done a perfect job, while Noctis was stuck waiting out the slow process of having his work corrected. His tutor kept telling him it was just five problems. Five was a lot more than he was acting like it was.</p><p>When he was finally allowed to go back to playing like Ignis currently was, he got right in his face and whispered to him that Ardy was much smarter.</p><p>Later that day, they did an activity where they drew their families.</p><p>It didn’t look as nice as what Ignis could do, but Noctis felt he was doing well. He and Dad stood next to each other, with Clarus on Dad’s other side like always, holding a sword that he accidently made too big. Then Ardy next to himself, and after some thought, he added Gladio.</p><p>“Is this your family, Highness? You’ve added a lot of other people here.”</p><p>Dad called Ignis a brother once, so he decided to put him in the picture too.</p><p>-</p><p>Over the years, the visits were forcibly diminished, for the sake of country rather than lack of desire to go. These days, there was no colorful path guiding Regis’ way to the back of the tombs. Only walls and coffins, ropes and plaques, and a silent interior that kept him very much on his own.</p><p>“He’s still talking with his friends, however little,” he told her today, voice kept low to avoid the reverberation the rock around them would otherwise cause. “It’s been a few weeks since he’s last shied away from me.”</p><p>Often, his thoughts were scattered as he spoke, as unfiltered as he had been with her when she was alive. Aulea always made speaking easier, not having to think as hard about whether he was commanding enough, or sure enough of himself to share what was on his mind.</p><p>“You’d laugh if you could see me right now, I’ve gotten more grays this month. There’s enough now that the people are taking notice of it on social media. They don’t know yet,” he halted. Even months after Noctis’ fate had been disclosed to him, saying it out loud, even for her, remained painful enough for tears to threaten. He never used to cry, and it felt all the more shameful that he even had to push back the feeling so close to his father’s resting place.</p><p>“They don’t have a right to know,” he said, more fortified this time. “I won’t have the world look upon him as a martyr when he should be treated like a child.”</p><p>He sounded stronger that time, like a proper king, but that wasn’t the part of him he was supposed to wear here.</p><p>“I don’t know what more I can do for him. I know you’d hate it, but I’ve moved some of the work upstairs.” And she would. Aulea had been the one to force politics, and the rest of the outside world, beneath the apartments, as far from home as possible. “But it must be worth it, if I can have a little more time with him.</p><p>“There’s still that friend of his,” his thoughts flowed freely now, yielding to one old topic he couldn’t let go of. “Whenever I hear back what he’s talking about with others, it’s either something about a game he was playing, or it’s about him. Everyone else seems to have left it alone, but… you know me. I’m never easily convinced.”</p><p>An unsteady laugh broke out of him, the confession of doubt unable to sit right, even here.</p><p>“Sometimes, I wonder if I want it to be more than what it is. I’d not have looked the fool back then if there was something to show for all the fuss.” He swallowed. “There’s no proof to any of it, but he’s held onto the idea for so long. It’s clearly important to him, if nothing else.”</p><p>He said no more, trying instead to recall how she would have responded here. Certainly he’d be scolded for blurring the line between work and home life, for overthinking Noctis’ fantasies.</p><p>For not being open enough with the others, even when he said that he would.</p><p>“I’ll keep trying.”</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis’ tutor explained the theme as he looked over the picture, picking out himself by Noctis’ side immediately, and gradually being able to identify the others. Clarus on his other side of course, and on Noctis’…</p><p>“It looks good.” He said, checking his son for a reaction. Noctis kept his gaze averted, making the offering in his hand feel obligatory rather than affectionate.</p><p>-</p><p>Dad frowned at the picture.</p><p>-</p><p>Later that night, Dad opened the guide on his tablet while Noctis tried to beat the ice boss, occasionally giving some encouragement or reminder of what to do. Each time he died, he had to hold the controller until his fingers hurt and he could feel the plastic squeaking from the pressure.</p><p>Sometimes he thought Clarus had lied that one time, because he usually didn’t look happy to be there.</p><p>“Do you like spending time with Ignis?”</p><p>He did like Ignis, but right now he had to destroy those annoying claws that had been beating him for months. There was only one left now.</p><p>“I’ve been told he and you talk a little bit sometimes.”</p><p>Finally!</p><p>“I’m really proud of you for making a few friends.”</p><p>Now he just had to blast its stupid mouth open.</p><p>“Gladiolus would be happy if you talked to him a bit more too, when you’re ready. He likes you a lot Noctis.”</p><p>Yeah, and he liked Gladio when he wasn’t being obnoxious and loud, but right now he had to fight this boss, and Dad was not helping by staring <em>and</em> talking at the same time.</p><p>“Your real friends are important Noctis. They’ll stand by your side when you need them.”</p><p>Shut up.</p><p>-</p><p>“A good way to tell is by figuring out if we can interact with them like we can everyone else.” Miss Anya explained. “Tell me if you’re still able to see Ardy.”</p><p>Noctis nodded. Of course, he’d been seeing him forever.</p><p>“You’ve shared before that he talks to you too, so of course, you can hear him.”</p><p>Duh.</p><p>“And you can still touch him.”</p><p>Duh. Miss Anya kept waiting when he rolled his eyes, so he nodded again.</p><p>“Thank you Noctis. Now, tell me if anyone else has seen him other than you.”</p><p>Carbuncle had. Carbuncle could do all of those things, and had even scratched Ardy a whole bunch of times when they fought.</p><p>He confirmed it.</p><p>“Show me some people who have seen Ardy.” She pointed at the paper in front of him, provided for him to either draw or write his answers.</p><p>Fine. No other <em>people</em>. It took a few tries for Miss Anya to understand.</p><p>“Sometimes our brains can play tricks on us called hallucinations. We can ask others if they can see, hear, and touch what we can to figure out if they’re really there, or a trick. We’re going to practice with a few things in this room.”</p><p>He was asked lots of questions like that for the rest of the visit. He and Dad and Miss Anya took turns looking at things and touching things, and using their tablet cameras to record objects to see if they would come up again when played back.</p><p>“I want both of you to help each other if either of you are not sure about something being real.”</p><p>-</p><p>“I’m sorry, Noctis, I can do one after this.”</p><p>He frowned, laying on the floor beside Ignis, pressing against him to see his progress. Currently there was just one dog on the page, which was normal for Ignis lately. Bigger drawings that took up the whole sheet of paper and took a long time to finish. They looked really good.</p><p>But right now, he didn’t want a dog. He picked up a black pencil and tried to give it to Ignis.</p><p>“When I’m finished with this one I’ll draw for you.”</p><p>He shook his head, grabbing a red pencil as well and putting both on top of the paper.</p><p>“Scientia.”</p><p>Ignis’ cheeks turned red as the color he’d been given, and he stood up.</p><p>“Excuse me, Your Highness.”</p><p>Already Noctis knew what was happening. Ignis went straight to his tutor, and then the whispering began. He knew they were talking about him. Every time this happened, Ignis would come back and start acting differently, often having his mind changed on whatever they were doing before. He stared at them as hard as he could, but they didn’t even look his way.</p><p>Angrily, Noctis grabbed up all the paper Ignis was using, and took as many of the pencils as he could carry to the reading corner with all the beanbags. He could draw the picture himself.</p><p>Beanbags, however, did not make a good drawing surface. One pencil tore through paper, ruining the one underneath it as well. He crumpled it up and threw it to the side.</p><p>This time he stacked all the paper up, not perfectly, but enough that it should have held in place. Pencil in hand, he began to form an outline of a person.</p><p>“Your Hig-“</p><p>The pencil slid at the sudden intrusion, and Noctis whirled, glaring at Ignis and slamming the pencil against his arm. He didn’t care that Ignis screamed, and it was a good thing that he stepped back. He wanted to be left alone.</p><p>But then he had all the paper and pencils taken from him. And then <em>he</em> had to sit by himself with nothing to do, even though it was an accident. Even when he tried to pick up the pencils again for Ignis, they were taken from him and put on a high shelf.</p><p>He hated tutors.</p><p>-</p><p>“Well done!”</p><p>The ice monster let out a shriek, shattering into pieces across the screen at long last, but Noctis was pulled away from the victory by Dad’s shout, his chest tightening at the noise and the motion of his leaning forward beside him. Dad grinned at him, the corners of his mouth falling for a second before being replaced by a smaller, but still pleased look.</p><p>“You’ve worked very hard,” the tablet Dad was holding was set to the side, and he brought a hand closer, his hovering making Noctis tense, until he settled it on his shoulder, given it a light squeeze.</p><p>“I’m proud of you.”</p><p>He could feel the pressure of Dad’s hand, warm, but not restricting. The breath Noctis was holding released, and his own lips stretched upward.</p><p>A chime rang from the tv, a signal that he could now save his game. Noctis turned back, ready to finally take on the next level.</p><p>-</p><p>Eventually, Ignis’ bandage was taken off, and Noctis decided to ask him to draw again. Ignis took the paper he brought him to the table where Gladio, who had come over after school that day, was elbow deep in folders and worksheets that he had dumped out of his backpack upon arriving.</p><p>He had a great idea that day. After Ignis finished drawing Leviathan, including a bunch of scales and all of her teeth, he asked for Carbuncle sitting on top of Ardy. The image in his head was very funny, and he knew Ignis would be able to make it look good.</p><p>Noctis was helping him too. He found him the colors they needed when Ignis requested them, and would set them on the side where he’d be able to reach them so he could work faster. The problem was that because Ignis added a lot more stuff to drawings now, Noctis expected he’d be able to make the ones he requested look the same. But Ignis still wasn’t getting the details he wanted right.</p><p>“Could you please describe him more, Noctis?”</p><p>So he tried to explain, pointing out that the coat was longer, and that it had other layers. That Ardy’s face should look scratchier, but <em>not</em> like Dad’s was. He made it too dark.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’ve never seen him Noctis.”</p><p>His body stiffened.</p><p>“You’ve never seen him cause Noctis made him up.” Gladio said.</p><p>In situations like this, when he got angry, Noctis was supposed to make himself feel better. That’s what Miss Anya had been saying recently. They played a game where he had to squeeze a ball as tight as he could, so he could remember to do it when he was angry.</p><p>But the ball was somewhere in his room, and he wasn’t thinking about it right now. His hands tightened into fists, and instead, he thought about how mad Gladio would be if he were to rip all of his homework up.</p><p>“It’s what my dad says.” He added with a shrug, making Noctis seethe.</p><p>He looked at Ignis, waiting for him to say something, for him to explain that Ardy was real, that he had drawn him a whole bunch of times.</p><p>Instead, Ignis put his own hands together, folding them and staring at the paper.</p><p>The other thing Noctis was allowed to do was tell someone he wanted a break, but he didn’t care if Gladio or Ignis knew what he was doing, so he put his hands on the tables edge to push his chair out, and stomped to his room, not bothering to close the living room door on his way out.</p><p>His bed was made while he was out that morning, and he tugged the sheets free so he could crawl in. He curled his fingers into the blankets, squeezing what he could hold into shapeless lumps.</p><p>A few minutes went by, making him feel restless and achy for lying on his side too long. The anger he felt wasn’t strong as it was before, so Noctis decided to go back, and ignore everything Gladio did and said until he left.</p><p>When he got to the living room door, still half open from before, he stopped. Gladio and Ignis could be heard from inside, and they had used his name.</p><p>“It’s cause he’s crazy,” Gladio was saying. “I heard one of the crownsguard saying so in the hall today.”</p><p>“Noctis gets angry when I tell him no, though.” came Ignis’ soft voice.</p><p>“But if you let him talk about it all the time he’ll just go insaner. It’s like in those movies where people see blood and daemons where there aren’t any. I watched one online.”</p><p>“I guess so.”</p><p>“You don’t think Ardy’s real, do you?”</p><p>“No, but-“</p><p>Noctis’ feet began working again, and he rushed back in, grabbing a controller from the floor and throwing it at them both, managing to get the back of Ignis’ head.</p><p>Both of them screamed, Ignis grabbing the spot where he had been hit with both hands. Gladio scrambled out of his seat and charged towards Noctis, balling up his hands and hitting him in the chest once, then again when Noctis tried to hit back, until they both were trading punches.</p><p>Gladio then kicked him, causing Noctis to fall to the floor. Retaliating, Noctis went for his legs, biting him just below the knee and earning a shout as Gladio fell on top of him. Noctis kept his jaw clenched tight, refusing to cry out, furious at Ignis for everything, for Gladio hitting him when he wasn’t allowed to.</p><p>His back was struck multiple times, causing his eyes to water from shock and pain, blurring his view between Gladio’s legs of Ignis running towards them, telling both of them to stop.</p><p>He was pinned. Ignis ran out of view as Gladio applied his weight to him, making Noctis flail, digging fingers into the carpet and trying to pull himself free. But he was heavy, much too heavy for him to move, and so much bigger than him, big enough to crush. Tears fell from his eyes, and he clawed harder into the carpet. He couldn’t <em>breathe</em>.</p><p>First came the sound of footfall, then the shadow bending over them as he continued to struggle against Gladio’s hold, until finally the crownsguard that ran in pulled the two of them apart.</p><p>“He hit Ignis!” Gladio shrieked. “He threw a controller at him and he bit me!”</p><p>The guard passed Gladio to another who had joined them, but kept her hold on Noctis as he tried to get loose, unable to reach Gladio with all the arms between them.</p><p>“Your Highness, control yourself!” She barked at him, arms wrapping under his, hauling him back.</p><p>He snapped his mouth shut again, biting his own inner cheek, but refusing to scream as he continued fighting, looking for a way out, seeing Ignis, who had called the guards in, shrunk up against the wall.</p><p>He trusted Ignis. He trusted him.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“See? Real as can be.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis was tracing the letters on his worksheets slower today. His writing was improving. Mr. Ravle said so himself. He could write his whole name by himself, except for his title, but prince was a weird word because it used a “c” where an “s” should be.</p><p>Getting better was important, because Ignis couldn’t write for him, and both of them were now being seen one on one anyway. It was challenging, his spelling was always bad and full of corrections that he had to go over when he got it back, but he didn’t have to guess as much at matching words to pictures anymore.</p><p>But if Mr. Ravle could read it fine and fix it, there was no reason Dad wouldn’t be able to as well. Dad was even smarter than him, after all. He knew how to play video games, and how to win boss fights. He could use magic. He didn’t talk about Ardy with him, but he never called him made up before.</p><p>The next few months were spent practicing, to the point that when Noctis’ birthday came, Mr. Ravle gifted him several books with writing activities that he could do whenever he wanted, as a reward for his progress. He also showed him a few more in the series about kings and queens of Lucis, because he loved the one about the Rogue Queen so much.</p><p>“Every time you finish one of the writing books, I’ll give you one of the reading ones, okay?”</p><p>Noctis started on the activities right away.</p><p>-</p><p>“How’s the brace working, Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Better already, the nerves aren’t so aggravated now.”</p><p>“Your walk’s better too,” Cor noted as Regis caught up with him, making their way to the storeroom. “Clarus told me beforehand you’ve been stiff.”</p><p>“Hence my trading out sparring partners.”</p><p>Even though the armiger couldn’t necessarily “clog up”, Regis found no need to keep rarely used items such as training weapons on hand. Better to leave such things in their place than to have them lost to memory and the physical plane.</p><p>“Wood today?” Cor began searching for training blades among the array kept a few shelves down, his own personal set. Both of them, along with a limited few others at the citadel, were permitted to this particular storage, set aside for those who had been awarded custom weaponry for their accomplishments.</p><p>“Just until I know it’ll be able to stand battle as easily as a leisure stroll,” Regis found his training sword, rolling his shoulder to loosen up while waiting on Cor. “I’d rather not find out the hard way that its durability is less than advertised.”</p><p>“Nor I, Your Majesty.”</p><p>The walk to the training room was mere paces, a spacious, private one with pillars opening it to the outdoors, should a change of landscape be desired during their duel. Cor paused a few yards in, letting Regis build some distance between them as he continued to the other side of the room.</p><p>“I’ll target your legs for now, get you used to defending them.”</p><p>“I’ve had this brace two days and already I have to parry The Immortal from slicing it off.” Regis griped, the sarcasm understood by his old friend. “It’s a custom. You’ll be able to afford a replacement if it breaks, I’m sure.”</p><p>“You’ve others at your disposal, Your Majesty,” Cor tilted his head, and Regis did the same, positioning his blade at a downward angle. “I’m sure.”</p><p>With that, Cor launched himself to his left, setting up a standard offensive maneuver. Once within his range, Regis waited out the feign; Cor side stepped to his right so he could have full access to the brace, and Regis warped forward through the spot he came from, avoiding the first hit.</p><p>“One for each day of the week,” Four, in actuality. Regis reversed his feet, facing Cor to see him in the midst of his next charge. He stayed this time, focusing on parrying instead of dodging. His right was being targeted directly, Cor lining his sword with the brace, but pointing its dull edge towards Regis’ waist.</p><p>He met the strike with the width of his blade, keeping it several inches from his midsection, and pushing out. Cor rolled back, no pause between his coming upright and beginning his next attempt at Regis.</p><p>The brace held up, and showed its worth in the ease in which Regis was able to maintain his balance for the next hour. Decades of practiced footwork returned to a standard he hand realized he had let slip away since the aches in his joints began to set, making him navigate the parrying drills with the finesse of a twenty year old.</p><p>They rested against the pillars after, looking out onto what was left of the green as cool autumn air brought them down from the high of their session, stopping the sweat they had built up.</p><p>“Get me one when I hit your age.”</p><p>“With any luck you won’t need one at my age.” Regis kicked his leg out a few times.</p><p>“Right,” Cor said after a beat, realizing himself. He sucked in a breath, searching for a new topic. “How’s it been with Noctis? Same old?”</p><p>“Same old. Talking less I suppose.”</p><p>“Talking <em>less</em>.”</p><p>“He used to speak with Ignis,” Regis sighed. “Though he’s gone in the same way as Gladiolus. He’ll mutter something now and then, but you know how he is.”</p><p>“I know that he’s fighting them.”</p><p>Of course Cor would. The reputation Noctis developed in the citadel was not a favorable one, with the way one wrong comment about Ardy, or a look that didn’t sit right could trigger him to retaliate with the nearest object. Not to mention his fleeing from any and all authority figures who made the mistake of trying to physically hold Noctis back, resulting less in whisperings and more in gasping declarations of exasperation from whichever worn out guardian was responsible for him at the time.</p><p>“Reg, you in there?”</p><p>“I’m in here.”</p><p>“You zoned out, everything alright?”</p><p>“Same old.” He looked at Cor, met with that raised eyebrow he used to let people know he was expecting more from them. “I know he should be doing better.”</p><p>“No shit,” Cor said bluntly. “They’re all talking about him. That temper of his is making its rounds with the crownsguard, and that’s making its way back to the council.”</p><p>A burning feeling coiled in his stomach. Cor had no need to pull that line, knowing the stress it caused Regis to think of the council holding more ammunition against Noctis. Their suggestion to have a placeholder “just in case” still angered him long after he had turned it down.</p><p>“He’s been improving with me,” he tried to explain, “I know he’s having a bad phase with-“</p><p>“A phase?” Cor balked, voice rising. “Guard Linux had to separate him from the others more times than she should have to count.”</p><p>“I know he’s-“</p><p>“Hurting them. And if that therapist is worth however much she’s getting paid, she’d focus on that instead of his speech issue. He needs anger management before anything else.”</p><p>“I’ll defer to your expertise then.” Regis crossed his arms, regal demeanor forgotten in favor of flicking a hand in Cor’s direction. Anger. Speech. Trauma. Delusions. Cor was welcome to choose the order in which they were resolved.</p><p>“Drop the sarcasm and find a way to fix it then. Before someone else orders a solution you don't like.”</p><p>“I will.” The pillar was cool as he laid his head back against it, the sensation tingling down his neck and across his scalp.</p><p>“Hurry on with it, cause I’m hearing worse things every time I report in.” Cor’s face softened, a much needed change.</p><p>“Do right by him, Reg. He needs the help.”</p><p>“I will,” he repeated, glancing at Cor briefly before looking outward, eyes trailing along browning foliage. “I will.”</p><p>-</p><p>Regis pushed back his evening meeting personally, to ensure he could have dinner with Noctis. It had run late, which he anticipated, not being able to return until nine that night. What wasn’t expected, however, was finding his son wide awake in the living room.</p><p>“Still up I see.”</p><p>Smiling helped Noctis’ stiff position, a result of Regis’ intrusion, relax once more as he joined him on the sofa.</p><p>“I’m impressed you can read this by yourself.” He teased. The book Noctis had curled up with was, while picture heavy, well beyond his reading level, heaping with text providing names and explanations of each image.</p><p>A history book by the looks, or maybe one on architecture, judging by the full page spread of the white structure Noctis had open.</p><p>“Do you know what this is?”</p><p>Noctis trailed a finger up the page to the large heading of its title.</p><p>“’Royal Tombs’, that’s right.” He confirmed. “It looks a bit complicated.”</p><p>His son thought for a moment, then shrugged.</p><p>“I’ll read it for you, if you’d like.”</p><p>To Regis’ surprise, Noctis actually passed the book to him, scooting closer and continuing to look at the page. Although not touching, Regis was instantly tuned in to the warmth filling the space between the two of them. Noctis’ arm rested against his own as he singled out the starting point for Regis to read.</p><p>“Before the main family catacombs of Insomnia were created,” he began, “kings and queens of Lucis would be laid to rest throughout the country. Many of these tombs are accessible for sightseers, however, those most ancient have been lost over the centuries, remaining to be discovered.</p><p>“While anyone may see the royal tombs from the outside, only the Lucis Caelum line holds the keys to their entry, in order to preserve the privacy of these resting places.”</p><p>Again, Noctis reached over his arm, scratching, no, peeling off the large tomb exterior to reveal its insides. A pop-up book. He gave a throaty sound as he tapped the coffin in the middle.</p><p>“That’s the coffin.” He explained, too happy to work with the bit of communication Noctis was allowing, even if it were just a noise.</p><p>This time, he gave a purposefully loud intake of breath, one that Regis was unsure how to interpret.</p><p>“It’s where they put the kings and queens. Their body is put inside the coffin.”</p><p>He hesitated.</p><p>“Like your mother.”</p><p>He feared the result of his words as they left his mouth, the anxiety they could possibly trigger, but Noctis only seemed to grow impatient, leg jiggling as he moved on to the statues inside the tomb. Regis read the small paragraph explaining their function.</p><p>Whatever Noctis was looking for, that paragraph wasn’t it. With a groan, he got up from the sofa and fled from the room, no further reaction to what Regis had read. He couldn’t fault him for it, running was better than the other ways he was attempting to resolve anger these days.</p><p>The book was set aside, and Regis contemplated putting himself to bed as well, almost doing so before hearing the rumbling of Noctis returning, rounding the sofa and all but jumping back on, thrusting a piece of paper to him. He took it, confused but willing to follow, and smoothed out its rumpled state over his knee to see that something had been written, in shaky letters that shrunk in size in order to all fit on the page.</p><p>
  <em>ar tey dark</em>
</p><p>Words. Talking. Not out loud, but talking. Something that Noctis had to say, and had taken the steps to do so, specifically for him.</p><p>“Yes,” his response fell out, voice weak with emotion. Years of silence his own actions had sentenced him too, and at last, words meant for himself. A glimmer of light hopefully signally that he was coming to the end of the tunnel. Would he use his voice soon? Would he write more tonight?</p><p><em>Breathe</em>, he reminded himself. One thing at a time.</p><p>“Yes, I suppose they are dark. Remember how some of them haven’t been discovered? Many are also buried in caves; I imagine those are very dark.”</p><p>A smile formed, vanished, and Noctis’ eyes shined as if something had just clicked in his brain, looking at the image of the tomb with new interest. Satisfied with the answer, Noctis turned the page, resting himself against Regis arm and waiting.</p><p>Noctis didn’t end up writing anything more that night, but Regis read on all the same, until Noctis fell asleep against him for the first time in years.</p><p>-</p><p>“You can use the notepad app to type. It will help you with spelling too, see?”</p><p>
  <em>ok</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>In retrospect, he should have expected the newfound communication to lead where it did.</p><p>He was wise enough to anticipate a silent meal, like any other they’ve had since he began dedicating his mornings to the two of them. They were worth every minute; Noctis had grown less shy over time, however slightly. No longer did he keep his chin tucked to his neck the entire time they ate, even if their eye contact was mere slips of seconds.</p><p>Regis tried to make the most of it, to coax out some of the playfulness that was there before, commenting with mild disgust when a food Noctis didn’t like was set down for them – after the servant left of course – giving him extra from his own plate if he saw Noctis devouring anything in particular. Anything that might reward him with some sign of pleasure with his father’s presence.</p><p>Then, not long after their latest milestone, Noctis came into the dining room carrying his tablet. Regis made no motion to have it removed, rather, he had to hold back his interest in the chance that Noctis intended to say something.</p><p>And say something he did, busying himself with punching in letters, eyes far too close to the screen for Regis’ liking and not sparing a glance at his food, despite the small pile of sausage he typically forwent utensils for.</p><p>Finally, Noctis presented the tablet to him.</p><p>
  <em>Do you hat ardy</em>
</p><p>Ardy as a concept existed as a loose possibility in his head, a humiliating affair, drifting through whenever Noctis had spoken of him, aggravating him, yes, because neither of them had any strong evidence that warranted how they worked through the topic. Yes, he supposed he could say he disliked Ardy, regardless of whatever manifestation of grief it was that had conjured him in Noctis’ mind.</p><p>To answer such a thing, however.</p><p>One look at Noctis brought him back. He had lost himself and now his son was hiding away once more, expectant face falling and body hunching over his food.</p><p>“Noctis,” the name was a buffer for him to continue his search for the right response, doing its duty as Noctis met his eyes, shoulders too tense for Regis’ liking, just because he had been silent for too long.</p><p>“I don’t hate you.”</p><p>An answer to a question he hadn’t been asked, he knew it so, but how was he meant to react? It took no further thought than the memory of Noctis jolting backward, failing to escape Regis’ own arms, to know he couldn’t say anything negative without regressing all they had worked for.</p><p>He could tell Noctis didn’t like the answer. He wasn’t so young as to accept the deflection, and took the tablet once more, tracing his finger from key to key, until a new message was returned to him.</p><p>
  <em>Is he really</em>
</p><p>This one took a bit longer for him to understand, and when he did, a clash of emotions overtook him. Excitement at a glimpse of wavering faith, some breakage in the story Noctis had carried with him for so long, and then, awfully, a twist of disgust at himself. Disgust at being caught up in the story himself, not as unyieldingly as Noctis, but to a degree that was indeed mutual. And disgust for the part of him that still wanted proof that confirmed his suspicions from long ago, when Noctis was looking to him for a concrete answer.</p><p>And again, how to respond? They had practiced what to do here in therapy. Credit what was said, be open, but don’t ruminate. Advice that, frankly, made the whole process feel stagnant.</p><p>Regis breathed, counted, grounded.</p><p>“He’s,” What to say? “Your friend, is he not?”</p><p>Noctis nodded, but frowned, catching the non-answer more quickly this time. He reached out, giving the tablet a light shove.</p><p>“You’re the only one who really knows him, Noctis,” Crediting or not he couldn’t very well lie, could he? Honesty had to be the best choice. “You were so sure before. Do you think he might… not be real?”</p><p>He asked, lamely, too eagerly.</p><p>Noctis snorted, picked up his fork and limply threw it against the table, causing it to skid down the middle. It wasn’t enough to make Regis react, not beyond a blink of surprise at the sound silver clattering against wood, but he could tell it was a sign of a potential outburst.</p><p>“I’ve never seen him Noctis,” he raised his voice only slightly, trying to take control of the conversation without coming off as intimidating. “You’re the only one who has.” Reality testing. They had gone over that, practiced together.</p><p>“I’ve never heard him, he’s never been on any cameras. Do you remember what the therapist taught you about that?”</p><p>In a flash, the timid look on Noctis’ face went sour, his nose wrinkling and his cheeks puffing, the attempt to bring logic into the discussion backfiring.</p><p>But it bottled up just as quickly. Tension remained present in Noctis’ body, his hands held together, fingers likely digging impressions into his palms, before he snatched up the tablet again, glaring at the screen.</p><p>“You’re angry.”</p><p>The tablet was dropped against the plate set in front of Noctis, still untouched, and both were pushed away so he could cross his arms over the space, hiding himself against them.</p><p>Rather than trigger further provocation, Regis kept his mouth shut, waiting out the upset, despite the urge to reach out and smooth over the shaking body by his side. Eventually, Noctis poked out of his protected frame, pulling the tablet back and amplifying all the shame Regis was already feeling as, letter by letter, he spelled out his message until it was ready to be read.</p><p>
  <em>I’m sore</em>
</p><p>Sore.</p><p>Sorry.</p><p>“No, Noctis,” he pushed his chair out, risking standing by Noctis’ side. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s okay to talk about this. I want you to.”</p><p>He waited, for Noctis to look up, to type something, to do anything other than stress his body out by staying in his position against the table. He remained at his side as the servants swept back in to take away plates and give Noctis his school things, and as they put down reports to familiarize himself with for that morning.</p><p>When they took the elevator down, he told Noctis again that he’d never been in trouble for talking about Ardy, or anything else. The dipping of his head, confirming he had at least been heard, maybe even understood, carried him through the rest of the day, and the smile Noctis was trying to conceal in his newest book – <em>Who Was The Founder King? </em>this time – when he picked him up that afternoon helped him sleep almost as soundly as he had when Noctis had passed out against his arm days prior.</p><p>-</p><p>Soundly enough, that when he found Noctis with that same book in shreds the next day, he was willing to have another bought and sent the tutor’s way that afternoon without any further discussion. Noctis backed away when he went to wake him, the pieces half stuffed into a drawer as he was entering the bedroom. Fortunately, his assurance that it would be okay was able to break through to Noctis, who gestured he was fine within a minute.</p><p>Still, Noctis was definitely more closed off than yesterday, looking positively downtrodden as he picked at his food. His lips weren’t in their normal, neutral line. Instead there was a frown there to match his downcast eyes, and his movement was lifeless in spite of several favorite meats making it to his plate that morning.</p><p>“I’ve already ordered a replacement, Noctis. It’ll come by before you leave tutoring. I promise he won’t be angry.”</p><p>As Regis was explaining his intentions to resolve the matter, Noctis’ lips parted, giving him pause. His head tilted upward, as if he were about to consider him, before facing his food once more.</p><p>He shook his head when Regis asked if he’d like to get his tablet, and Regis didn’t press.</p><p>-</p><p>And that should have been the end of it until the evening, if it had not been for word of mouth reaching him, and Noctis being sent to him with blood on his knuckles and an explanation that Ignis had been escorted to the medical floor.</p><p>-</p><p>A week later, the council stepped in.</p><p>“This violence is unacceptable. He requires more supervision and discipline.”</p><p>“He was already the gossip of the nobility with the speech problem. One more incident like this and the commoners are sure to find out his condition,” Councilwoman Gima said. “There’s been more than enough covering up of His Highness’ issues at this point. Safety measures should be taken to prevent further harm to others, lest he be enabled any further.”</p><p>“All of his caretakers have been trained to de-escalate his mood swings,” Regis interjected.</p><p>“Clearly not well enough, given how the Scientia boy has been treated,” Gima continued, face pinched stern. “We should be thankful it’s just a nose and not worse, but without proper correction more injuries to others will follow.”</p><p>“The prince has shown a rise in communication through text in the past few weeks, with myself, and with his caretakers and educators.”</p><p>The meeting was shaping up to be one of the hardest since the Lucii had revealed Noctis’ fate to him, and it was no surprise, with his son once again the subject of the council’s scrutiny. Plenty of time had already been wasted letting the members take turns decrying Noctis, every little piece of Noctis, when he had made so many strides that month.</p><p>“The public won’t accept a monarch who requires a translator,” one member ‘helpfully’ provided, “He’s been this way for years, Your Majesty, more than enough time to begin acting his age, and there’s still the prophecy at play.”</p><p>And in typical fashion, with the focus on Noctis came the subject of his sentence, the silent chorus of nodding heads showing a particular interest amongst the room to hone in on this morbid detail of his life.</p><p>Daos volunteered himself next.</p><p>“There’s been no word from the Lucii or the Six following the initial encounter, and the reality of their silence, and His Highness’ behavior, is that our kingdom has remained willfully,” he locked eyes with Regis. “unprepared for the future.”</p><p>There was no need for the conversation to continue, it had come up plenty of times before, a script Regis could recite himself had he genuinely wanted to hear it.</p><p>Not that it stopped Daos from continuing.</p><p>“I speak with no ill will, Your Majesty. The queen’s passing was nearly five years ago.”</p><p>Regis straightened himself. To bring up one member of his family was enough to earn his defensiveness, but pulling in Aulea showed they were in particular want of his ire that morning.</p><p>“And we needn’t repeat tired conversations about the possibility that the prince will not produce an heir of his own.”</p><p>He couldn’t interject, feeling little muscles spasm in his face as he forced himself to appear collected.</p><p>“We’ve been patient with the process, but the reality is that the prince is not currently a stable candidate for the throne. It’d save time, and give us a stronger guarantee of Lucis’ future, if we focused our efforts on you finding a suitable new marriage.”</p><p>A chill ran through him, eyes widening and mouth involuntarily parting.</p><p>He had been here before, years ago. That time around the conversation was easy, between himself and his own parents, and with Aulea already on his mind. His father had called him lucky for not having to “deal with prospects.” Prospects never even needed to be brought to the table.</p><p>His father. The man who taught him long ago, when he first began attending council, to conceal whatever he was feeling, when listening and when making his own case. Emotional sway never convinced others, and the skill of steeling himself before even entering the room was learned quickly.</p><p>Maintain eye contact with whomever you are speaking to. Show neutrality to all comments, but be stern when rejecting an idea. Speak confidently. Never let them see you waver.</p><p>Regis didn’t need his father looming over him to be ashamed of himself while he grit his teeth, betraying his anger.</p><p>“His Highness has shown enough progress to give me confidence in his abilities,” he kept this speech steady. “I am certain he will continue to fall into step.”</p><p>“Then let us suppose he does,” another councilwoman said. “Suppose he claims his birthright, and that his sacrifice will not be for decades.” She didn’t propose herself to him, but to each member of the council, looking around the room.</p><p>“Let us also suppose that Niflheim finds some upperhand in this war. Let us suppose His Highness is assassinated. Who then will rise in the line of succession? The crystal has chosen one family line. Suppose it won’t choose another.”</p><p>Her words were well received, murmurs of agreement and men and women looking amongst each other to see the consensus forming at the table. Even Clarus, keeping stoic watch on the scene, had given a nod in her favor.</p><p>“We can’t lose further time on this,” Gima said, “It has always been in the kingdom’s benefit to have more than one plan in place for the future. Let us take action rather than stall any further, and finally be done with the matter.”</p><p>Let him take action, she should say.</p><p>“This isn’t a punishment against the prince, Your Majesty.”</p><p>No. Not against Noctis, at least.</p><p>“It’s a failsafe.”</p><p>A rejection.</p><p>-</p><p>Rather than set himself up for any conversational traps between now and his next meeting, Regis went straight to his office, Clarus following behind. Having his shield with him should have helped make the free time a reprieve, but instead he got painful, reality inducing honesty.</p><p>When they arrived, he habitually sat at his desk, but didn’t move to start on any of the work before him. Clarus stationed himself by his door, and they both stared ahead, until neither man could contain the swirl of thoughts between them.</p><p>“Reggie,” Clarus broke away from his post, coming closer, but not yet looking at him. “You’re doing right being patient with him. I’m not going to lie and say he couldn’t stand to be pushed more, but-“</p><p>“I know,” he couldn’t handle any more regurgitations, his own anxieties more than enough. “He’ll be expected to give speeches, attend social functions. If he were just a normal boy…”</p><p>If indeed. If Regis himself were a normal man, and able to spend the time with his son that they so desperately needed, be there often enough for him to know that his father cared, that his encouragement was not some farce.</p><p>“With due respect, they haven’t made any points that we couldn’t have made ourselves.”</p><p>“Would you also have me give up on him?”</p><p>Clarus scowled at him.</p><p>“Those harsh words are your own. The fact of the matter is that the prince can’t- won’t, speak. He needs enough hands on deck as is.”</p><p>“He’s functioning at level.”</p><p>“And that would suit him fine if he were just another blue collar worker, but these rages of his are making it hard for people to see him as a leader,” Clarus came in front of the desk, unavoidable. “Look, you know I’d never want you to be forced into another marriage. When you told us about Aulea back then, I-“</p><p>“You showed no objection when they suggested it.” Regis sneered, refusing to look even as Clarus crowded his space. He wasn’t able to stop him for more than an instant.</p><p>“It’s a backup plan, Reggie.”</p><p>“I am aware of what it is, Clarus,” he could feel his shield’s presence, far too close for him to dare speak so bluntly after he had remained silent during the meeting. “I simply don’t share your enthusiasm for my wife and son being cast aside.”</p><p>He stole a look, eyes flickering upward to see the mixture of pity and weariness in Clarus’ face.</p><p>“They are ignoring how hard he’s been trying,” he continued, not wanting to hear another word of sympathetic implorement. “He’s communicating. Ignis and Gladiolus have both been able to reach him.”</p><p>It had been the wrong thing to say, he could see that in the way the wrinkles that had been setting in Clarus’ forehead made their appearance, how his scattered jumping from issue to issue had finally baited a break in his shield’s attempt to stay supportive.</p><p>“His interactions with them are what people are so concerned about. You saw what happened to Ignis, and that doesn’t even cover the fight he got in with my son.”</p><p>“We agreed it was both their faults when we last discussed it,” Regis replied coldly, “Gladiolus instigated him when he insulted Ardy, and you reprimanded him for it.”</p><p>“I reprimanded him for trying to harm the prince of Lucis, not his words.”</p><p>Regis was ready to keep arguing, to point out that the fight could have been avoided, and that Noctis was working on his anger, but Clarus held a hand up before he could get another word in.</p><p>“Allow me to speak out of turn, Your Majesty.”</p><p>The title alone shut his mouth.</p><p>“I get that Noctis has been doing better, but just because he’s speaking up more doesn’t change the fact that he’s got a clear violent streak. I don't care what’s provoking it. Gladiolus looked like hell when he came home from that fight.” Clarus became more heated with each word. “He has bruises from trying to hold Noctis back other times as well, and Jared’s found him crying at home. He refuses to say why, but it’s pretty obvious what’s stressing him out, and he’s never going to complain about it because he wants so badly to be a shield.”</p><p>Even as Clarus stopped for breath, Regis still couldn’t face him, eyes wandering across the pictures on desk, Aulea, smiling warmly at him, Noctis, small with curiosity in his eyes for the camera that captured him when he was less than a year old.</p><p>“That’s <em>my</em> son roped into this, Regis. I’m not going to let his safety be sacrificed, and I’ll see that he’s withdrawn from his role if that’s what I have to do to keep him safe.”</p><p>Now, Regis stared at him, disbelieving the outburst. “Clarus,”</p><p>“I’m serious,” he snapped, “As serious as I damn well can be. For Titan’s sake Regis, all this,” he waved a hand, furious. “This needs to come to a head. I don’t give a shit how you resolve it, but I can’t do more for you than I already am, and my son sure as hell shouldn’t have to give as much as he has.”</p><p>“Am I not giving enough?” Regis shouted back. “They want to replace them both. My son and my wife! As if I’m not doing everything I’ve been told to keep this together, even though I don’t get to see my child most of the day, even though I have to give up my family, my time.”</p><p>He stood too quickly, cringing as his knee crashed against the desk’s paneling and sent pain convulsing up his leg.</p><p>“And my god damned body! I’m doing everything I can and you don’t see me complain about any of it.”</p><p>And it was true; he had sacrificed everything for his country and for Noctis, and nearly fell apart trying to prioritize one when the two of them couldn’t coincide. But the way Clarus stood, ever the sentinel as he exploded, cowed Regis into catching himself, grabbing the edge of the desk for support.</p><p>“It’s insult enough that they wanted to replace my own son.”</p><p>He kept his hold on the wood, riding out the shaking of his body as both men simmered, their outbursts so uncharacteristic of them. He wanted to convince himself there was a way around all of this, some miracle fix that would help his son and keep the council at bay, yet there was no logical fallacy he could hope to trick himself into believing, much less rope any others into agreeing with.</p><p>It was Clarus who broke first, telling Regis to come around. He agreed, allowing his shield to shadow him over to the seating on the side of the room. The silence between them was uncomfortable, but necessary, both of them needing to collect themselves before they could find out how to resume.</p><p>But he really couldn’t handle it right now. They needed to figure out what to do about Noctis, but he wasn’t the only problem hanging in the air, just the fallback Regis was using to negate thinking about the council’s new order against him. One that, if the gods had been just slightly kinder, he wouldn’t be facing in the first place.</p><p>At last, he allowed himself to let go of the thought staining his mind.</p><p>“We were trying for another.” His heart dropped as he allowed the words to go free, made real by being said out loud and heard by someone else.</p><p>“They said we’d have to take extra precautions,” he could feel the severity in his voice harden with his body, the fingers he linked together going taut at the knuckles. “We wanted two more.”</p><p>A rush of feeling ran through him, his eyes singeing with the threat to water up as he slowly released the well guarded, long buried hopes he once had for the future.</p><p>“She fell ill almost immediately after we started trying again, but we kept persisting.</p><p>Then, when we were in the meeting, I thought,” he inhaled, fully aware how abhorrent he must sound. “If we had just succeeded, if we had just one more before-“</p><p>“Regis-“</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he didn’t have the strength for more than that, retreating his concentration back to Clarus’ grievances, “You’re right about Gladiolus. He shouldn’t be pulled into this.”</p><p>He didn’t blame Clarus for not replying, aside from a resigned bow of his head, both of them still sore from yelling at each other, from letting out years of pent up frustrations.</p><p>It was a slow conversation, one that both of them knew they needed to have before their obligations caught up to them once more, one that they began there, and finished hours later, after they were released from their schedules.</p><p>For his own sake, Noctis needed to be brought under control.</p><p>-</p><p>“Noctis, Gladiolus.”</p><p>Both heads popped up to face Regis from either side of the room. Noctis only took a second before vanishing back behind the sofa to resume his game, but Gladiolus stood, setting the book he had been reading down to better look back and forth between his father and Regis.</p><p>“You two aren’t playing together.” Regis observed.<br/>
Gladiolus shifted, blushing as he responded.</p><p>“No, Your Majesty. His Highness-“</p><p>“You’re friends, call him by his name.”</p><p>The flush deepened in color. “Noctis wants to play alone, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Regis sighed. Clarus called Gladiolus over, and the two of them exited on Regis’ dismissal, to move forward with their respective plans. That left him alone with Noctis, still playing his game at loud volume.</p><p>Once the door had closed behind the others, he approached. Noctis turned his head in his direction briefly, again returning to the game when he could tell Regis intended to stay.</p><p>Right then.</p><p>“Please put the controller down,” He began, met immediately with a groan. “Pause it, I want to talk with you.”</p><p>Another irritated noise. Carefully, he put his hand out, palm upwards.</p><p>“This is important. Hand it to me.”</p><p>Finally, Noctis clicked the game off, pouting as he surrendered the controller.</p><p>“Noctis,” there wasn’t much he could say that wouldn’t feel like padding out the message, so he chose to be direct as he could. Consequences, like Clarus said. “There are a lot of people who are worried about how you’ve been treating your friends. I know you’re trying your best, but we can’t have you hurting others. You need to start getting along with them, even if they say things you don’t like.”</p><p>He paused, hoping this was simple enough to follow, that Noctis was paying attention even as he tucked his head down.</p><p>“And you,” this was the tricky part, putting a spotlight on his son’s greatest anxiety, “must start speaking with more people. Whoever makes you the most comfortable,” he added swiftly. “There are… many who are running out of patience for you.”</p><p>Noctis was fidgeting, worry taking him just as much as it was taking Regis. There was so little he could explain, the specifics of why he had to make more effort inappropriate for his child’s ears.</p><p>“I’d have them wait longer if I could,” he added, though it did little to resolve the fretful picking at fingernails Noctis had begun, “but you’re a prince, Noctis. Just like I was, and that means you have certain expectations to meet. You can’t just talk to Ignis and Gladiolus your whole life.”</p><p>He spotted the tablet, resting on the cushions on Noctis’ other side, and walked over to hand it to him.</p><p>“Please, at least let me know you understand why this is so important.”<br/>
Noctis nodded, but it wasn’t enough, however much Regis wanted it to be so.</p><p>“Type something, please.”</p><p>And the <em>Okay</em> would have been enough for him, but there was more to be said, expectations that had to be met.</p><p>“Just keep up with texting, okay? It’s a good start, but the others will want you to talk out loud soon.”</p><p>It wounded him, the way Noctis hesitated before the next nod, a signal of fear that he’d be wrong to tell Regis no.</p><p>But they had to persist. He couldn’t lose Noctis.</p><p>“You must stop hitting too. From now on, there will be consequences when you do so. You’ll lose games, books. Each time you hurt someone.”</p><p>Under any other circumstances, he’d have been grateful to see the splash of emotion on Noctis’ face, the crossing of brows and the scowl showing him that this course of action would have the desired impact.</p><p>Now, it just hurt to know he had caused his son displeasure.</p><p>“You’ll be able to earn them back as long as you’re nice to others,” he explained. “Do you understand?”</p><p>Noctis let out an angry groan, and smacked his thumb against the tablet.</p><p>
  <em>No it’s not far</em>
</p><p>“I know it’s not,” Regis said, remembering as the words left his mouth that the punishment very much was fair. “But it won’t have to happen as long as you control yourself.”</p><p>A snort this time, his son looking at the controller Regis was still holding.</p><p>“I’m leaving it with your caretakers. They’ll give it back tomorrow.”</p><p>That’s what triggered it. Noctis seized the controller from his hand, and locked eyes with Regis, glare to wide eyed disbelief.</p><p>He reached out, but Noctis leapt off the sofa, lifting his hand up to keep the controller out of reach, the expression matched with his position making him look menacing.</p><p>Again, he tried to retrieve it, but Noctis stepped back, still fuming, and used his other hand to knock the tablet towards him.</p><p>It slid off onto the floor, landing anti-climatically against the carpet without so much as a thud.</p><p>“Noctis,” he tried to go after him, but as he did so, his son gasped, and the controller flew at him, making contact with his waist and then dropping to the floor, clacking against the tablet.</p><p>“This is what I’m talking about,” the words came too quickly, and he could envision Noctis shrinking back in his mind, like he had so many times before, but that wasn’t what he saw before him this time. Noctis continued to glower at him, undeterred by his own actions.</p><p>“If you keep up like this,” but the words caught, the day crashing down on him, hours of the council forcing his family to the side, the shouting match between Clarus and himself, the years of defending his son only to have him worsen with every insistence Regis made that he would get better.</p><p>“Please,” was that desperation in his voice now? “I don’t want this to become any harder on you. I’m not going to be able to protect you from the world forever, Noctis.”</p><p>He could only guess how he appeared, crestfallen and staring a hole into the floor, looking less the father and more in line with the child he was begging cooperation from.</p><p>Regis allowed himself to sit on the sofa again, any pains caused by leaning forward be damned. He didn’t see, but heard the footsteps of Noctis running from the room, the talk not getting through to him in the slightest.</p><p>Begging. That was the only card he hadn't used, one that he never should have. Drawing attention to the problem and putting the pressure on Noctis to do the last thing he wanted. He may as well have not spoken at all.</p><p>Warm fingers brushed against his own, and he tilted his head up. Noctis had been so quiet in his return, but he was too worn out to properly respond to him.</p><p>His hands were manipulated open, and he looked back down as Noctis transferred carved stone into his hands.</p><p>The carbuncle that he had given to him years ago.</p><p>He faced Noctis once more, watching him duck down to pick up the fallen tablet, and waited as he unlocked it, quietly typing in letters, and studying the message before letting Regis see.</p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry</em>
</p><p>He was always weak when it came to his family.</p><p>“Thank you, Noctis.”</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis tried.</p><p>When tutors and servants asked him questions that required an answer, he gave them texts to interpret. His spelling improved, and he was praised for how quickly he learned.</p><p>He saw less of his friends, which suited him fine. Playing by himself was more fun anyway.</p><p>-</p><p>Regis tried.</p><p>He staved the council off his heels for the next few years by focusing on maintaining the country’s stalemate with Niflheim. Guards continued to be trained to handle Noctis’ mood swings.</p><p>Every night, he sat at Noctis’ bedside, and offered stories until he confirmed which one he’d like, or offered Regis a book to read from.</p><p>Regis wanted Noctis to be happy. He took him out beyond the citadel walls when he could, as long as Noctis said he wanted to go. Every feeling, text, grunt, and whine was validated. If he himself felt any inkling of reaching a breaking point, he concealed it, so as not to force his son to bear the burden.</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis wanted his dad to be happy. He listened to every story, and agreed to every outing. Many of them were fun, and he said so when Dad asked.</p><p>It turned out Dad didn’t hate him getting angry as much as he originally thought. He would get upset if Noctis got in a fight, but he never, ever hurt him.</p><p>Typing was easy. Everyone listened when he typed, and almost everyone agreed with what he had to say. Over the years he found it was better than feeling the guilt that would roll through him when Dad asked him to speak, and much, much less intimidating than an entire room quieting when he tried to say something out loud to Ignis.</p><p>He’d rather be ‘The Mute Prince’ than feel like a zoo animal.</p><p>-</p><p>“Just do your best.”</p><p>If Noctis had to hear Dad say this one more time today, he was going to punch a hole through the nearest window. He’d said it at least three times in the car, which only made having to go to the stupid event even more irritating. Some stuffy gathering of adults that required him to be dressed in starched up clothing with too many buttons and folds that had to sit in the exact right spot.</p><p>“Noctis, let her do her job. She’s helping you look your best.” Dad told him as the attendant fussed over his appearance. He’d done what he could to evade her, refusing to make eye contact when he was forced to hold himself still – he squirmed anyway – and allow her hands to smooth out wrinkles and adjust parts of his outfit that no one was going to even care about.</p><p>“You don’t have to say anything,” Dad reminded him, again, as they stood at the wing where they were waiting to be announced to the crowd outside. “Just wave, like we practiced.”<br/>
He hated practice. It was just waving, and it felt stupid to do so just for Dad when he was only going to do it once.</p><p>It was awful. The crowd of people watching them was loud and their applause was loud and he didn’t want to do the stupid wave. He glanced just once at them, than focused on following Dad to the podium where he had to stand and do nothing, while Dad, meanwhile, talked and talked and <em>talked</em> about nothing worth remembering. Boring things like the country needing to be self-sufficient, the importance of jobs and workers and other things that no sane person would ever want to listen to someone go on about. And Noctis had to be stuck next to him, staring at his feet until at last the crowd erupted once more, Dad finally having reached the end of his speech.</p><p>He smiled to himself, imagining them being happy that Dad was shutting up.</p><p>But then there was the sitting. Because there were other people who wanted to talk. Adults always did so for too long, and never even about anything interesting. He wished he could sleep through it all, even closing his eyes before Dad whispered at him to stay awake.</p><p>Even Ardyn didn’t rant this much.</p><p>By the time they were finished and permitted to head back into the building, Noctis was sure he could fall asleep on his own feet. He wished he could, because now he had to wait for people to talk while standing.</p><p>The worst part of the afternoon was when a man with headphones and a clipboard came up, never a good sign. He listened as the man explained the camera feed, and, keeping himself trained on Dad, told him about little details that Noctis had messed up. Posture, his face, how he couldn’t be recorded, like anyone was even going to care!</p><p>Dad didn’t scold him, just said he had done his best, and they would try again.</p><p>When it was time to leave, Dad told him they had only been there four hours. Four.</p><p>The drive was long too. His tablet was out of power and he forgot his charger at home, so he was stuck sitting until they returned to the citadel.</p><p>“Thank you, Noctis.”</p><p>More talking. He shifted against the hard, uncomfortable form of the car door.</p><p>“I know the mantle of royalty is not an easily assumed one, but I saw how hard you were trying. I,” he broke off. Noctis remained hunched against the window, legs drawn into his chest.</p><p>“I hated this when I was your age. Everything felt much longer than it actually was,” Dad chuckled. “But we must show kindness to those who come to see us.”</p><p>This was why he didn’t like car rides, especially when there was nothing to entertain himself. Dad would try to fill in the gap by telling him everything wrong with him, acting like he was proud but always saying what had to be better.</p><p>“I know you’re trying with Ignis and Gladiolus too. Even if it’s not always easy for you to get along with them, know that they’re real friends.”</p><p>Dad always called them real.</p><p>He didn’t hear about either of them. He was already having an awful week outside of having to go to this dumb event, and it was both of their faults. He had gotten in trouble for ignoring Ignis while doing homework, and for overturning the table even though he didn’t mean to. Then, Gladio started calling him demanding and spoiled, and he lost all his games for fighting even though he hadn’t started it.</p><p>Dad continued to drone on about all the topics Noctis didn’t want to hear; he had to act like a prince. He had to talk more. He had to look good in public. He needed to smile. He needed to look out at the crowd instead of at his feet. He needed he needed he needed, and on top of it all, Dad then said how proud he was of him? After all of that?</p><p>“I’m doing my best to make this as easy for you as possible,” Dad sighed. “That’s why we’re only going to do this now and then. You need to get used to it, but I’m not going to let them make you do an-“</p><p>That’s when Dad’s voice was cut off. Noctis didn’t register it at first, long zoned out and not sure if Dad was done or had stopped mid-sentence. Then there was the thrust forward of his body as the driver attempted to slow the car, Dad’s arm stretching over between his chest and his knees, and finally, the realization that there was a giant thing in the middle of the road.</p><p>Towering over the car was a monster. A daemon.</p><p>It lunged at them, and the car swerved too tightly for them to escape, tipping on its side, metal wailing against the concrete.</p><p>Noctis screamed as his body fell to gravity, still buckled by the car seat and left dangling over Dad, who was frantically undoing his own beneath him.</p><p>There was an ear piercing hiss, and then the car was sent skidding down the road, pulling another scream from Noctis. The driver fell to his side, landing on the window with a yelp as the car tumbled in circles, leaving the three of them upside down.</p><p>Dad was wrestling his way towards him, looking out the window for a second before grabbing Noctis, causing his whole body to seize as Dad pinned him into the seat.</p><p>He needed to get out, he didn’t want to be trap-</p><p>This time, he didn’t shout when the body of the daemon slammed against the car, not even when it was slashed open by one of its great swords. He was yanked out, at some point the seatbelt had been undone, and Dad warped them both across the road, once, twice, three times, before turning to face the daemon.</p><p>Farther back, in the evening strokes of dusk – far too early for a daemon to be out – he saw that it was a marilith. The tail was so much longer in real life, serpentine and glistening in the last of the sunlight, but the body was vaguely human, with ghastly blue skin, a woman’s face.</p><p>And the arms.</p><p>Long enough that if it got close they’d fall around him like a prison cell, unless it chose, worse, to hold him down.</p><p>His eyes darted to the wreckage. The car was being licked by flames as the driver, screaming, pulled himself from the window- he was on fire <em>his legs were on fire.</em></p><p>Behind, the rest of the retinue had already fallen into formation, exiting their vehicles to charge the marilith. Dad had put himself between it and where he had brought him to, but the marilith swept around him, launching itself.</p><p>He had a toy of one at home.</p><p>Noctis gasped as his vision clouded black and his spine snapped and popped. The marilith’s claws dug so deep into his back that he was picked up by the strike, catapulting off the pavement, over the guardrail, and tumbling down into the rocks and dirt beyond.</p><p>The pain was white hot at first, but the shock of it all caused it to cease after only a moment, the cuts and bruises so much more demanding.</p><p>He landed out of sight, but when he turned his head, smearing his face against the ground, he could still make out the top halves of the guards trying to defeat the daemon, all shouting as they attempted to surround it. He tried to move, fingers curling into the dirt, packing under his nails.</p><p>His body felt wrong, numb. Shouldn’t it hurt more?</p><p>Distantly, Dad bellowed his name, his voice muffled by the cries of the driver, the shrieking marilith, and the shattering of the armiger opening.</p><p>The marilith turned in his direction, towering over the guardrail as it locked its eyes on him. He had to move, it was hurdling at him, but his legs were too weak, too funny.</p><p>Suddenly, it paused, body jiggling, jaw falling open. Then the source of the motion flew through, a burst of crystalline swords, axes, maces and countless other weapons wisping over Noctis’ head. He shut his eyes, the sound of magic cracking again in the air, and when he dared to open them again, he found his view of the serpent boxed by a set of legs, his own body being shut out by a translucent curtain.</p><p>Another screech came from the marilith as elements rained down upon its body, thunder causing it to shudder as blood ran from its wounds, but it was too much for Noctis.</p><p>He closed his eyes again, and when he opened them the next time, he was alone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:3c</p><p> </p><p>Remember when I said I was working on two chapter at once guess what this is both of them.</p><p>Noct's texts were brought to you by: me typing how he would spell things into my phone, and then putting in whatever autocorrect assumed I was saying. "I'm sore" made me yell.</p><p>A million thank you's again to my beta, strawberryblue. You put so much work into this and I'm beyond grateful for the time you've taken, especially with such a huge chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The calm of Limbo came as a shocking contrast to the chaos he’d escaped from. The air was clear – no mists today – and no sounds indicating nearby life. Just cold, hard ground, and light coming from a source he could never find, bleeding through treetops.</p><p>He still couldn’t move his legs. Couldn’t even feel them. His arms seemed fine at first, until he tried to push himself off the ground, causing his shoulders to feel twisted and tight.</p><p>“Ardy,” the tears came back again, caking more dirt on his face. He needed help. Dad was still out there, in the middle of fighting the marilith. It was holding on when he had passed out, as if none of the gashes on its body mattered.</p><p>What if Dad wasn’t able to defeat it? What if it came for him next?</p><p>The sounds of branches shifting drew his attention, and his sobs intensified.</p><p>“Noctis, what on Eos-“</p><p>“I ca- can- I can’t-” He choked, trying to turn so he could see where Ardyn had come from. Ardyn would be able to help. He knew how to stop things like this.</p><p>“Calm down-“</p><p>“I can’t move!”</p><p>“Noctis,” at last he twisted his head over to see Ardyn crouching down to meet him, white coat and cape falling around his body as his eyes darted over him. “What’s happened to you?”</p><p>The words wouldn’t form. As hard as Noctis tried to make them, his cries kept taking over, shaking his chest with how strong they were. His arms were pin-prickly, too numb to be of any use.</p><p>“Ardy, help.”</p><p>“First you need to breathe.” Ardyn said, far too collected for what was happening. His eyes had stopped trailing over Noctis’ body, freezing when they settled along his arm. It was filthy, blood coagulating with earth packed onto his skin, brown smeary chunks caking over the thin black lines threading beneath like veins.</p><p>Noctis stared at them, lungs filling again at the sight of the unknown substance.</p><p>“Help me!”</p><p>Ardyn hushed him, bringing his hands to hover above his arm. He tried to reach back, blinking his vision past the continuing tears so Ardyn could come back into focus. He was frowning, a mix of concern and confusion.</p><p>“Easy, Star. Hold still.”</p><p>He tried his best, snorting runny snot back up his nose and grimacing as it shot down his throat. Ardyn took his arm, steady at first, just examining it, but then squeezed, and <em>squeezed</em>, far too tight, making him wince.</p><p>“Quiet,” Ardyn growled. “I need to concentrate. You’ve worse wounds than that back of yours.”</p><p>“I can’t feel my legs.”</p><p>“I told you to be quiet.” Ardyn’s grip was too strong, one he could only tug weakly at. He was muttering something, too low for Noctis to understand, and his hands were rapidly warming against his skin.</p><p>And then the pain up his back was replaced with something far, far worse. Some creeping, squirming sensation running along his back, his chest, his arms, even his scalp, making his insides feel as if they had expanded, filled greater than they were supposed to be. Sluggish and sticky pain.</p><p>And his arm.</p><p>It was better that his crying blocked his vision. He didn’t want to look at it, knew he wouldn’t be able to stop if he could see the blotchy black substance blooming under his skin, Before now, he had only ever seen on tv. On news channels that he stared at with morbid fascination while channel surfing, in a horror movie he wasn’t allowed to watch.</p><p>Starscourge.</p><p>Ardyn released him, sitting back and staring wildly between Noctis and his own hands as the scourge ran wild across both their bodies.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“Holy shit… book it! He’s getting worse.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Stay back, Your Majesty, we need to stabilize him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“This won’t be enough. We need the Oracle.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“Star, breathe. I’ve told you how to make it stop, you have to listen.”</p><p>“I can- ca- I-“</p><p>“Breathe.” Ardyn grabbed him again, rolling him onto his back.</p><p>But all he could do was scream.</p><p>Again, his body convulsed, and all movement was overtaken by the scourge coursing through him.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“We’re coming up to the airship now, the medical team is already there, but they’ll need time for their equipment to be transferred on board.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He needs the charger for the tablet.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We have a few on board, Your Majesty. Your things will be arriving any minute.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s something else, upstairs.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“Eyes up. Look ahead, and listen to my instructions, understand?”</p><p>His own sniffling was louder than Ardyn’s voice, no matter how much he raised it, but Noctis tried. Focus on Ardyn. Focus on the trees and the leaves and the endless gray and dull green of the canopy that bore down on him.</p><p>“The more you think about it the worse it’s going to be.” Ardyn was more stable now, at least, no black ichor pouring from his eyes, tone firm yet soothing. “You have to concentrate on something else, or it will overwhelm you.”</p><p>The leaves had a clear pattern he’d never noticed before, still as any other night he had seen them, and growing more evident as he continued to squint at them, memorizing their individual shapes.</p><p>“You have to forget it’s there.”</p><p>The pain dwindled.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“I know I haven’t been diligent in my prayers, but please. You told me you needed him. Don’t let this be a chapter in his fate. Please, keep him safe.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“How’d you learn to do that?” It had been… Noctis didn’t know. Hours probably, of watching leaves – if he focused on just one it could make most of the pain stop – and of Ardyn reassuring him that he’d be fine, which was hard to believe when the scourge played in his body.</p><p>“Is it because you’re hurt too?” he whispered.</p><p>Ardyn had stopped observing him at some point, contemplative form hunched just out of reach. All Noctis wanted was for him to come closer, to feel his familiar embrace.</p><p>“Ah,” he said after a long pause. “It’s been a long time since I’ve mastered the skill. But we needn’t worry about pain here. It’s only a dream after all.”</p><p>“I’m scared,” he confessed. His body wasn’t thrashing about anymore, however much time it took to relax had ended that, but did little to make him feel safe from the knowledge of what was happening inside him.</p><p>Ardyn wouldn’t be able to change that, and so he had to keep looking up. One leaf looked different from the others, angled downward in a way that made it look squashed. He made sure to not take his eyes off of it. If his gaze fell down to his body, he’d see the black streaks coating his arms, pulsating.</p><p>Both of them flinched at the sound of rustling, the motion breaking Noctis away from his task, and making him shiver as he attempted to keep the scourge at bay.</p><p>“Ardy.”</p><p>“I heard him.” Ardyn was already straightening up, on his knees as he readied himself for the intruder.</p><p>It was normal for Carbuncle to slink into Limbo alongside Noctis, eyes narrowed into slits and tail twitching in acknowledgement of Ardyn. The two of them needed months to adjust to each other, before Carbuncle at last accepted that Ardyn was there to stay.</p><p>This time, however, was very much like his first appearance.</p><p>With a growl, Carbuncle leapt from the brush he had been lurking in, over Noctis and straight for Ardyn, clawing up his legs and landing a bite on his jaw, sinking his paws into the man’s throat as deep as they could go.</p><p>Noctis tried to intervene, but even moving his arms reminded him of the agony he was truly in all over again, and he collapsed.</p><p>“Carbuncle, no!” he cried, “Stop it, stop it!</p><p>There was nothing he could do to hold him back though. Ardyn fended for himself as he always had, grabbing the creature by the paws and throwing him off with a curse.</p><p>He was up on his feet in an instant, attempting to kick Carbuncle back as the fox picked himself up, returning to the squabble.</p><p>The fight went on, Carbuncle as persistent as he had ever been. The noise of them both and the position at which Noctis had to watch them jumbled in his brain, too much stimulus for him to be able to keep his head straight.</p><p>That’s when the scourge spiked up again. He wailed, regretting the look he stole downward at his own, useless legs jerking on their own. Even though he couldn't feel it, the sight alone filled him with horror.</p><p>Then Carbuncle was at his side, the fight forgotten in favor of sniffing along Noctis’ frame and down his body, his head darting back and forth in duress. Ardyn came closer too, his wounds dripping stains into the white coat he wore, now mangled and askew from the assault.</p><p>“Damned creature,” he rasped, wiping at the shreds of his face as they knitted back to unmarred skin, but not attempting to get a jump on Carbuncle.</p><p>“Hold still, Star,” he ordered. ”Look up.”</p><p>The leaves. Noctis did as he was told, searching for the odd one again, but morbid curiosity tore his attention back down. He wasn’t able to see much, aside from the long ears of Carbuncle folding back against his body, staying in place as his tufted tail curled upward stiffly. Ardyn squatted nearby, looking severe and braced for another attack, hands clenched on his knees.</p><p>Noctis tried bringing his own hand closer, but wasn’t able to reach him, going ignored by Ardyn.</p><p>His breath caught in his throat as the squirming began anew, thankfully not as aggressive as it was before. It seemed to be settling, collecting in his stomach and flowing back up his arms and neck, running down his legs.</p><p>
  <em>His legs.</em>
</p><p>The air trapped in his lungs finally released as scourge slinked downward, joining with what he hadn’t realized was there the whole time; cool forest bed on his pants, cuts and sprains he hadn’t registered until now.</p><p>“Look up, Star.”</p><p>The leaves were the same bland green they had always been, their shapes never faltering in the still air. Carbuncle came back to lick his cheeks, scrunching his own and wringing his tongue out to teethe off the dirt. It brought a flicker of a smile to Noctis, a humored but brief bit of a laugh as Carbuncle cringed in disgust before resuming cleaning his face, occasionally breaking to get the taste out of his mouth.</p><p>Testing his legs found them heavy, but workable. However little, he was able to control them. Feel them.</p><p>“They work.” He gasped out.</p><p>“Barely,” Ardyn pointed out, scanning over them. “Don’t flail so much, you’ll aggravate them.” He glanced at Carbuncle, knuckles losing their strain as they uncurled. “Insufferable as it is, we’re lucky to have a healing spirit on your side.”</p><p>Noctis reached back to pet Carbuncle, fingers disappearing into the soft blue fur of his tail.</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>Carbuncle chirped and nipped his ear, before giving its shell a lick. He giggled at the tickling sensation, giving Carbuncle one last pet before placing his hands in the dirt. But just as Noctis positioned his elbows to support himself, the pain returned to his back, shooting upward and causing him to cry out.</p><p>“Stop moving,” Ardyn snapped, eyes wide and body lurching forward, stopping short of interfering. “You’re going to hurt yourself further if you keep this up.”</p><p>Obeying, Noctis returned his eyes to the leaves, and began counting them.</p><p>One, two, three…</p><p>-</p><p>“What time is it?”</p><p>“I’ve no way of knowing, Star.”</p><p>“How long have I been here?”</p><p>“… A few hours, perhaps.”</p><p>Noctis took a shaky breath. “When am I gonna wake up?” He turned over as Ardyn ran a hand down his face, muffling his annoyed voice.</p><p>“I don't know.”</p><p>“Can,” he stopped, unsure of what he wanted. Everything felt numb after lying there for so long. The pain that typically came with each mistaken shift of his body had begun to subside faster, bringing him to the point that he could flex and rearrange his limbs without discomfort. But an ache had begun to set into them, that wasn’t going to fix itself unless he could get up.</p><p>“I wanna move.”</p><p>“I said no, Noctis.”</p><p>“But my back hurts.”</p><p>Unlike Ardyn, who only gave a weary sigh, Carbuncle perked up at the complaint. He had snuggled up in the crook of Noctis’ arm shortly after he finished cleaning all the dirt and grim off of him, turning in tight circles before settling there. The feeling of his soft fur helped him, a place for his fingers to play lazily in the want of something to do.</p><p>“Can you tell me a story?” He found his head at an awkward angle as he contorted it in an attempt to see past the long curtain of hair hiding Ardyn’s features.</p><p>At last, Ardyn straightened himself, revealing his tired expression, bags drooping under his eyes, skin drained of color.</p><p>The recitation had just begun as Noctis blurted an alternate request.</p><p>“Before the boarders you know had been-“</p><p>“Can you hug me?”</p><p>Ardyn stopped, looking at him, eyebrow raised, then slowly turning his attention down to Carbuncle. The hint was easy to take – Noctis jostled the fox with the arm he had snuggled against, then gave him a push, but had no luck. Carbuncle simply nibbled at his fingers, using his nose to nudge Noctis’ hand away.</p><p>“Go away,” he pushed again with growing force. “I want Ardy, go away!” The arm Carbuncle had sat on wasn’t cooperating, too odd and grainy from being squashed by the fox, but he hit him with the other the best he could.</p><p>“Go away Carbuncle!”</p><p>But the fox wouldn’t budge, or hop up to defend himself the way he would with Ardyn. The older man would have gotten a warning growl alone if he had simply scooted closer, never mind the bites and scratches he was guaranteed if he struck the spirit. But for whatever reason Carbuncle had, Noctis was permitted those aggressions. Carbuncle always hated Ardyn, but he never once had hurt Noctis.</p><p>That only made it stranger to hear Ardyn stop Noctis’ retaliation short.</p><p>“Pay it no mind.” Ardyn’s voice cut, steel sharp.</p><p>“But I want-“</p><p>“Pay it no mind.”</p><p>Noctis relented, setting his hands down, shrinking under Ardyn’s watch, even as he started the story over. Never, ever – almost ever – was Ardyn so mean to him. He got grumpy, sure, but that was normal, and he rarely refused to hold Noctis. He got mad about different things, like when his body was hurting, or when he read the book he’d wanted Noctis to bring for months.</p><p>Things were supposed to be different here. He was supposed to feel safe.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“Remind me our arrival time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We’re scheduled to land around 1040 hours, Your Majesty. We’ll need that long if we want the fuel to last.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“I wanna go back.”</p><p>It was definitely longer than normal now. Ardyn finished his story, then a few others as Noctis did his best to find more things he could look at. Ardyn’s voice helped a lot, enough that he could close his eyes and feel okay, but okay wasn’t what he wanted.</p><p>“I wanna go back,” he repeated, still getting no word from Ardyn. “My back hurts. I wanna wake up.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>The reply was barely a whisper, completely unhelpful.</p><p>“When am I waking up?” Noctis croaked, throat dry and exhausted from his screams and cries. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be asleep this long, not even when he was permitted to stay in bed late into the morning. The scenery’s sameness was getting to him in a way it never had before. Each return was supposed to refresh the dream, trees rearranging themselves, waterbeds coming and going, either murky with leaves and mud or clear and full of stones. For all its consistency there was variety, something new to discover, a change in weather, a structure Ardyn would teach him to build that would inevitably be gone the next time he went down for rest.</p><p>Here he laid, in a body that wouldn’t move without strain, without any change to keep him entertained. Even with no hands to hold him down, Noctis was trapped.</p><p>“I wanna wake up!” the panic took over, he couldn’t think straight. “I wanna wake up, I wanna wake up!”</p><p>“Noctis,” Ardyn’s voice was raised, his usual means of silencing him, but he couldn’t listen over the sound of his own mantra. Nothing was getting better, he shouldn’t be here for this long – and the last thing that happened before he passed out was him being attacked. People were shouting, the daemon was lunging at him in spite of all his Dad had done to hold it back, and. Dad was still out there – he didn’t see if he had won the fight or not. What if he was hurt too? What if something was wrong?</p><p>Dad couldn’t lose. That was impossible.</p><p>Ardyn was still trying to talk over him, but he couldn’t take in what he was saying, thoughts flying through worse and worse possibilities. Dad could be hurt. Dad could be <em>dead</em>. Something was wrong that made it so he wasn’t waking up – so that he couldn’t wake up. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work. Ardyn stayed, not Noctis.</p><p>He liked the idea of staying when he was younger. Many times he had been in the middle of a game with Ardyn, only for it to be cut short by the morning, leaving him disappointed and having to wait until later to continue.</p><p>Staying wasn’t what he imagined it’d be. Staying was terrifying.</p><p>He felt tears join his gasping breaths, streaking his face.</p><p>“I wanna-“</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“Please rest, Your Majesty. We’re still seventeen hours out. Someone will watch him for you.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“Dad’s buried me.”</p><p>Like every other thought, it came out of his mouth as it crossed his mind, filterless.</p><p>Far from the first, each time Noctis seemed to tire himself out, a new, awful possibility claimed his mind and he began sobbing all over again. Every couple minutes, every hour? He had no way of knowing how many days he’d been there, but surely it wasn’t more than two. It couldn’t be more than two.</p><p>What if it had been much longer?</p><p>The leaves blurred out of sight.</p><p>“Dad’s buried me.” He repeated, tears slipping down the side of his face, chest starting to heave with hyperventilation. “Da- Dad’s-“</p><p>A growl from Carbuncle called his attention to the side, Ardyn had come closer. After keeping his distance for so long, he was willing to forgo Carbuncle’s threat, coming to rest by Noctis’ head as the fox continued to bare his teeth. Close enough at last, Noctis grabbed what he could reach, a fold of Ardyn’s cape, and pulled it close, promising himself not to let go, no matter what.</p><p>Ardyn studied him, heavy lidded, with his eyebrows pinching the bridge of his nose sympathetically, and lifted a hand, hovering out of Noctis’ reach.</p><p>“He hasn’t buried you,” Ardyn’s voice was as smooth as he could make it, nearly every bit of gravel held back as he comforted him. “You’re just sleeping because you’re hurt.”</p><p>The hand tentatively reached closer. It might have been like a bug landing in his hair rather than a fingertip. He could barely feel it, much less lean into the touch, but it was soothing all the same, instantly assuaging Noctis’ fears.</p><p>“Injuries like yours do this, but that doesn’t mean you won’t wake up. It’ll just take time.”</p><p>“How much?” he asked, voice small as he tried and failed to stretch his neck so Ardyn would be closer. The answer took time, a pause only bearable thanks to Ardyn wisping his hand in his hair.</p><p>“I can’t say for sure. It, ah,” Ardyn’s expression turned serious as Noctis opened his mouth, all the signal he needed to close it again and allow him to continue.</p><p>“It’s different for everyone, but they do wake up, as I’m sure you will. Your legs are already working,” he paused, eyeing Carbuncle strangely. “It’s a good sign.”</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“I’ve seen this before, many times. The scourge will do this in its early stages, but it can be the same with physical injuries. Eventually, you will wake from it.”</p><p>“Who’d you see?”</p><p>Another silence. Noctis closed his eyes, trying to focus on the barely there fingers in his hair.</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>This was good, at least. When he got to close his eyes, and lay against Ardyn while he fondled his hair and told him stories, he could relax completely. He loved the games and the exploring, and maybe it was weird, but this was one of his favorite parts of sleep.</p><p>At last, Ardyn hummed again, causing his eyes to flutter open in interest.</p><p>“It happened… to my brother.”</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“The Chosen draws near.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Gentiana, Mother said he was hurt. Will I be able to help?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The one you desire to meet will not match your expectations. His mind is no more at ease than his body. Your bond will be hard earned, young Oracle.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“I can’t,” Noctis fell into the dirt for the hundredth time, chest thudding and dust puffing out from where he landed. “It’s not working.”</p><p>“You’ll not be going anywhere until you can stand,” Ardyn replied, also for the hundredth time. “You said you wanted to get up, so get to it. We’ve no better way to spend the time, unless you’re ready to stop.”</p><p>“I’m not,” he said quickly, rolling onto his stomach and propping himself on his elbows. Hours with no signs of wakefulness, and Noctis had relented to the need to make some sort of change, but trying to fight against his uncooperative legs and weight on top of the scourge surging through him with every effort was impossible.</p><p>It was starting to look better at least; the black streaks had faded some, no longer scurrying under his skin as intensely as they had when they first came, even forgettable compared to the pain running up and down his spine as he now struggled to stand.</p><p>If Ardyn would just give him a hand it’d be easier. He already gave up on asking for help – Ardyn simply insisted it would make things harder. Arguing hadn’t worked, though Noctis thought his explanation made sense. All he needed was for Ardyn to pick him up, support him until he could walk by himself. Everything would be fine after that.</p><p>But Ardyn still refused, standing firm on Noctis doing it all himself as he watched, giving encouragements that didn’t make it any easier. What he needed was to be picked up. He could “forget the pain” once he was standing.</p><p>A scan of the ground didn’t show anything that would be of use to him, not that it had done so any of the other times he looked. Carbuncle caught his eye, wandering into his sight to sniff the area. If Noctis were being honest, he had been far more helpful than Ardyn, between licking at his cuts, which had finally faded, and pawing at his back, the same way he had at his legs – though with far less luck than before.</p><p>The fox continued to follow along a trail neither he nor Ardyn could detect, disappearing into the bushes with a light brushing sound as his fur shifted the branches.</p><p>Meanwhile, Noctis struggled onto his hands and knees for the billionth, millionth time.</p><p>A moment later, there was a loud chirp, some rustling, and a pale blue tail emerging from where Carbuncle had disappeared. He came out backwards, tail tucked under his legs and paws digging into the ground with effort as he dragged out a long, sturdy looking branch with his teeth.</p><p>Shifting his weight, Noctis reached out, then crawled so he and Carbuncle could be in contact faster. Ardyn beat him to it, taking hold of the branch with far more ease than Carbuncle could, and held it out straight for Noctis.</p><p>He practically climbed it, Ardyn letting go as he began to support himself, resting his palms on top as his legs shook with the effort until he could lean himself against it.</p><p>Standing. Barely able to hold himself up straight, but standing.</p><p>“Shoulda got me one sooner, stupid.” Noctis grumbled to Carbuncle, whose nose twitched in offense. He looked up at Ardyn, both of them smirking the way they did on a normal night. That he’d gone from crippling full body pain, every action under control of the scourge inside him, to being able to stand, was already making the hours of agony fade away.</p><p>He’d be able to walk now.</p><p>It was as their laughter petered out that Noctis felt it, that small pull from within himself, a bleariness that he had to blink from his eyes as a yawn escaped his lips.</p><p>“I’m waking up!” He grinned at Ardyn, relief flooding him as his companion smiled back.</p><p>“See, I told you-“</p><p>“Here.” The stick was thrust into Ardyn’s chest, but the man stepped back.</p><p>“Best sit before passing it on,” came his explanation. Noctis nodded, carefully bringing himself to the ground before presenting it again. This time, Ardyn grasped it properly, towering over him as he remained standing.</p><p>“Don’t lose it, okay?” Noctis demanded. “Make sure it stays.”</p><p>Ardyn smiled down at him, features shaded by the endless tree branches above.</p><p>“I shall.”</p><p>“You better.” He warned a second time, the pull coming on stronger now, taking his smile from his face. What was going to happen when he woke up? Was he still out in the dirt, after all this time? Dad must have taken him home, or to a hospital. Would he be able to walk?</p><p>What if Ardyn’s trick didn’t work anymore?</p><p>“Ardy… am I gonna be okay?”</p><p>Ardyn opened his mouth, hesitating, and by the time the words were forming, he was already fading back.</p><p>-</p><p>He opened his eyes with a gasp, the pain so clearly worse than in Limbo, possibly the same as it was when the marilith had initially struck him. Moving his fingers seemed okay, if not a little stiff, but he couldn’t bend his knees, was barely able to wiggle his toes. Everything had stopped working.</p><p>Barely a minute awake and he was already panicking – Ardyn’s trick – he had to find something to look at. His eyes were stinging as he searched the space for something, unable to concentrate. He jerked his hands, needing to gain control of something, but the one was caught, and as he pulled, an inhale came from his left.</p><p>Dad was there, holding his hand with both of his, blinking tiredly as his mouth fell open, expression contorting in some emotion Noctis couldn’t recognize.</p><p>“Noctis,” Dad bent his head down, resting it against their hands as he squeezed. His voice shook with his shoulders as he continued.</p><p>“Noctis, Noctis.”</p><p>Unsure what to do, and unable to get up from where he lay, Noctis could only watch for a few seconds before needing to take in the rest of his surroundings. His eyes flicked about, realizing the unfamiliarity of the sparsely filled, dark room they were in. No lights were on, but there was a tiny window letting sunlight beam in, in its own square shape that caught bits of fuzz and dust in its haze. The whole room seemed to be ringing, a hollow, ventilated, white noise, like an engine. There was a nightstand next to where Dad sat, with only his carbuncle perched on top.</p><p>He moved his head over to the other side, staring blankly at the equipment set up between the bed and the wall. A large box of a machine showed a line zigzagging across its screen, beeping rhythmically. And there was a pouch hanging from a pole, with some liquid inside of it sliding down a rubber tube that-</p><p>Noctis whimpered, suddenly very aware of the needle imbedded in the middle of his arm, and the possibility that it would break and get stuck inside if he bent his elbow.</p><p>“It’s okay,” His head jerked back to Dad looking up at him, squeezing again as he hastened to assure him. “You’re alright. You’re safe now. Everything’s alright.</p><p>“We’re on an airship taking us to Tenebrae,” Dad ran a thumb over his fingers in short, slow circles. “They’re going to help. Are you in any pain?”</p><p>Noctis blinked.</p><p>“Just a moment,” the hands withdrew as Dad stood, making for the doorframe sitting before the bed, his walk strangely stiff. The door slid into the wall, and Dad spoke to someone out of sight.</p><p>“He’s awake.”</p><p>The door shut as Dad hurried back to the chair resting by the bedside, taking his hand again.</p><p>“We’re just a few hours away,” the rubbing motion returned as Dad looked him over, face filled with an uncertainty that felt wrong for Noctis to see, especially as his eyes widened and he turned to the nightstand, opening the drawer and lifting out his tablet.</p><p>“Here,” he made to offer it, but stopped short. “Can you type?”</p><p>He tried, fingers pinching lines into the sheets as they attempted to work through the tightness that wasn’t present when he was in Limbo. Looking down at himself, Noctis noticed the blanket covering him up to his chest, and where his scrapes had faded before were now bandages wrapped up his arms, their white sticking out against the ugly, veiny black running all the way down to his fingers.</p><p>That was the same at least, but the strength he thought he had gained back was apparently not with him now that he was awake, leaving him only with little movements at his disposal.</p><p>A hiss came from the doorway as it opened again, this time to a line of doctors wheeling in carts of medical supplies. They crowded him in an instant, flanking him on all sides as those manning the carts passed whatever was requested by the one up on his right. Light was shined in his eyes, and he was ordered to follow the doctor’s finger, blink his understanding of a series of cards asking his name – the cards gave him options, as if he wouldn’t know his own – his age, the year, and several other obvious things.</p><p>“You’re extremely lucky, Highness. No head trauma.”</p><p>Then they prodded his body, increasing his discomfort as they peeling the blanket off the bed to access him fully. The doctors tested along his legs and feet, making Noctis wince and kick weakly.</p><p>“Could have sworn he was going to be paralyzed… you’re one tough kid, Your Highness.”</p><p>“He’ll walk.”</p><p>“Yes, Your Majesty, in time.”</p><p>More it seemed, Noctis thought, than it would take while sleeping.</p><p>“Seriously, it’s a miracle he has any feeling down there. A spinal injury like that is usually the end of it. Even the starscourge seems to be settling, visibly at least.”</p><p>Noctis turned away, back to the bedside where the carbuncle sat, facing him.</p><p>“That totem definitely did you some good,” the doctor commented idly as he continued his examination.</p><p>“See,” Dad took his hand again. “It’s all going to be okay. We’ll land in a few hours.”</p><p>His eyes drooped shut shortly after the doctors exited, promising to have food and pain killers brought in a few minutes, though Noctis wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach them. Like this, it was easy to zone in on the warmth of Dad’s hands, the feeling of his thumb massaging him in calmness.</p><p>“Food first, the medicine will make you drowsy.” Dad rambled, trading bits of information between his assurances.</p><p>If it allowed him to sleep, the medicine would be good. He could practice walking some more.</p><p>“Your mother shattered her hip when she was younger. She didn’t like being stuck in bed like this… fought like hell to recover as fast as she could. Would you like to know how it happened?”</p><p>He nodded, giving a throaty moan of approval.</p><p>Just a few hours…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ta da.</p><p>I call this the breather chapter... everyones milage may vary on that.</p><p>Thanks as always to my beta, who kicked some serious butt this month on the chapter and refining the outline of the overall story.</p><p>And thank you to everyone who continues to comment or just read and enjoy, you're my biggest motivators and I'd never have gotten this far without you.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Luna woke up half an hour early.</p><p>She knew there was no need for it, rather, it would only make the morning harder by extending the wait. The evening prior had left her restless. Ravus only indulged her for so long, retiring at his usual time, but at least he hadn’t pestered her to do the same, allowing her to stay up later than usual.</p><p>Still, sleep didn’t claim her as easily as it did her brother. Luna was almost shaking with anticipation the whole night, failing to stop herself from thinking in circles, and waking twice to her dark room – thank you, Gentiana – before giving up on the third try.</p><p>Resigned, she drew back what covers she hadn’t kicked away overnight, and made her way to the dresser, leaving her lamp untouched. This time of year, there was enough light coming in through the windows that there was no need for it, even this early in the morning.</p><p>Her mind picked up right where it was last night, in the midst of all the ways meeting Noctis could play out. She’d convince her tutor to let her leave early, using the speech she practiced to herself as she fell asleep. Mother, Ravus, and her would all greet the king and Noctis – her diplomacy lessons put to use for the first time in ages. And then, she thought as she pulled a skirt and blouse from their hangers, Mother would let her help with the healing process. She and Noctis would find a way to talk to each other from there.</p><p>She tucked her blouse in, smoothing the creases in the front. That was a part she hadn’t figured out yet. The briefing she and Ravus received the day before only mentioned Noctis’ muteness in passing, obviously not as forefront of an issue as the scourge, but Gentiana’s message did seem to imply that she and Noctis would get along soon enough.</p><p>The rest of her routine was a rush, slowed only by a pause in front of the mirror to make sure she was presentable. It would be a few hours more until Noctis was meant to arrive, but she wanted to look decent just in case the airship landed sooner than expected.</p><p>“You’re an early riser today, Luna.”</p><p>It came as no surprise to see Ravus up and about, her nose wrinkling before she even set her eyes on him in the hall. She couldn’t comprehend why he chose to be up so early. Mornings suited Luna well, but heading straight to the barracks? There was no way she’d ever start her day like that.</p><p>“Maybe I’ve decided to train in the early hours,” she quipped, “and get myself a disgusting musk like yours.”</p><p>“In your day clothes?” Ravus remarked, mouth thin and humorless as Luna rolled her eyes, opting to walk past him.</p><p>“You’re still too young for weapons.”</p><p>Oh, but he wasn’t too old to make fun of her? She hated that tone he always had to use, that subtle sing-song that Mother only knew existed because she eventually overheard his teasing. Irritated, she tilted her head up toward him.</p><p>“I’ve got less than a year to go before I can start.”</p><p>“You’ve got ten months.”</p><p>“Ugh,” the heel of her shoe squeaked as she turned her attention back to the direction of the dining room, fighting the urge to stomp as she made her way down.</p><p>“Luna.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I heard you speaking with Gentiana last night. You should report to the spiritualists after breakfast, seeing that you’re up early.”</p><p>As if she needed him to remind her! Luna groaned.</p><p>-</p><p>“Around… 2:15, I believe.”</p><p>“And her words?”</p><p>“’The Chosen draws near,’” Luna pressed her lips together, trying to recall the awakening Gentiana had given her late that night. “I greeted her by name, and asked… ‘What must I do to help him?’ Gentiana said-“</p><p>Her cheeks grew warm. The next bit of wording she recalled accurately, but didn’t care to give the exact phrasing of.</p><p>“’The one you desire to meet,” Oh yes. Her face was certainly pink now. Did Gentiana have to describe him that way? Luna clung to her skirt, rubbing a pinch of fabric between her index finger and thumb. “’Will not be as… as…”</p><p>“This,” the scribe chided, rolling her pen in her hand, “is why you are meant to alert us as soon as possible when receiving word from a messenger. I will have to note this as a recollection instead of an authentic script. You must be more responsible with coming to us immediately following an encounter, Your Highness.”</p><p>Luna held her tongue. There was no use arguing her laziness. Another night might have found her doing as was expected, or writing in her notebook after Gentiana left so she would be justified holding off on working with spiritualists at odd hours. But with the suspense of meeting Noctis at the forefront of her mind, both options had fallen to the side. Years had been spent wondering what he might be like, with their lives told to be so entwined.</p><p>“The rest of the message, Your Highness.”</p><p>Back on track. The sooner she finished here the sooner she could meet Noctis.</p><p>“’The one you desire to meet will not be as… anticipated.’” That sounded about right, and she was able to get it out without blushing so much this time. The rest, however, she could barely recall. A bit of ad-libbing would be necessary.</p><p>“’His trust will be hard earned, young oracle.’”</p><p>“What else?”</p><p>“Then, oh!” she looked up at the scribe, correcting herself. “I’m sorry, before the word on trust, she said ‘his mind is no better than- no better off than his body.’”</p><p>Another sigh, oh, the woman could sigh and have it mean a thousand things, couldn't she? This one was a combination she knew well, the flickering up of eyes that were just begging to roll all the way back meant “you’ve forgotten most of it, haven’t you?” And the tap of the pen shortly after sighing was impatience. The shoulders heaving with her chest begged how she was still so childish at twelve years old, and, collecting the whole effort together, summed up a message of the scribe’s own internal making; shame on Lunafreya, for she has misrepresented the word of the gods.</p><p>“Continue.”</p><p>Luna made it through the transcribing several minutes later, and to her chagrin, found it was still only 8:34 when they finished. Still a few hours from the airship’s arrival, which meant she’d have to attend her morning lessons.</p><p>Muttering a quick prayer for forgiveness – paraphrasing a high messenger was certainly some form of blasphemy – she made her way to meet up with her tutors, hoping they would be permissive with the schedule, given the day’s upcoming events.</p><p>Luckily, they seemed just as enthused as she was, wearing their eagerness on their sleeves and nodding their approval to dismiss her after the first hour. That left her with plenty of time to ready herself; a process assisted by chambermaids jumping to ensure she would look her best for Lucian royalty.</p><p>When she entered her room she was whisked out of the clothes she chose that morning – “You needn’t look too formal, but we must get you something a bit nicer!” - redressed, and sat at her vanity for further fussing.</p><p>“You did your hair just lovely today,” one maid fawned. “I’ll be out of a job if you keep grooming yourself so well.”</p><p>She did her best to suppress her giggle, bringing a hand to her mouth as the maid smoothed frizz out of her hair, taking extra care with the braid she had set to frame her bangs that day. Loose hairs were tucked back into place, and sections redistributed to sit evenly.</p><p>“Can I wear some makeup?”</p><p>The maid’s reflection smiled, taking her hands off Luna’s head and placing them on either side of the chair’s back. “Just on your eyes. You haven’t swiped anything of Her Majesty’s again, have you?”</p><p>“No,” Luna opened the drawer in front of her partially, snaking her hand in to push one of Mother’s pallets a little deeper inward before taking out her own things. Her collection wasn’t much; a few lipsticks in varying nudes and pinks, and a small pallet of eye shadow in colors chosen to bring out her eyes. Anything more was held onto by a man who did her and Ravus’ faces for public appearances.</p><p>The chambermaid had her put the lipsticks away, saying it wasn’t necessary, and focused on her eyes solely, just a little color and liner that made her lids twitch as it was carefully applied.</p><p>After she was finished, Luna was off in the halls again. 10:07am. The airship would land at 10:40. She practically skipped down the stairs, even though she was trying to slow herself to make the wait seem shorter. She debated taking an elevator down, but decided against it, figuring the walk would take a little more time. All the less she would find herself standing about in the entrance hall.</p><p>Finally, she arrived. The hall was empty save for the guards, who gave their greetings to her as she chose a spot on the steps to sit.</p><p>10:19</p><p>10:23</p><p>Just how long could seventeen minutes last? It might have been wise to bring some form of distraction with her, but there was no use in it now. Luna didn’t want to risk not being present.</p><p>“Anything we can do for you, Highness?”</p><p>She shook her head as she looked up at the servant checking on her, hands folded against her front, unoccupied, with a neutral, but friendly smile.</p><p>“I’m fine, thank you.”</p><p>The servant nodded, and was on her way again.</p><p>10:27</p><p>Her toes dug into her shoes, in an effort to prevent herself from jiggling her legs. There was no doubt that she looked high strung, but she’d take it over being called out on any anxious fidgeting.</p><p>Thirteen minutes. Practically ten.</p><p>10:28</p><p>A wet, cold square of a nose nearly made her jump as it wedged between her arm and dress, nuzzling open a space for its owner to force itself into.</p><p>“Pryna,” Luna kept her voice down, being sure not to have herself echoing around the room. “Have you come to keep me company?”</p><p>Pryna whined affirmingly as she reached to scratch around her pointed ears. Having sat so long on her own now, she was starting to feel out of place, but the action allowed the butterflies in her stomach to settle some.</p><p>“Don’t tell Umbra, but I’m glad it’s you,” she whispered into the dog’s ear, making her shake both of them as her breath hit it’s shell. “He would have gotten black fur all over me, but no one will notice if it’s from you.”</p><p>There was no way for Pryna to tell anyway, none Luna was sure of in any case. She began stroking the fur around her ears, where it was the softest, smiling as Pryna huffed in satisfaction. Only a moment passed however, before Pryna was painted gray by a shadow growing over the two of them.</p><p>“What are you sitting out here for?”</p><p>Luna patted Pryna’s side before she stood, meeting Ravus only at the waist, their heights emphasized by the staircase.</p><p>“What took you so long?” She asked as she climbed a few paces above him, brining herself face to face with her brother. He wasn’t even dressed properly! His attire was just as casual as her own had been earlier. “They’re going to show up any minute.”</p><p>“There’s no rush,” Ravus said, sound aloof. “The king isn’t set to arrive until noon. Shouldn’t you be studying?”</p><p>“The airship is landing at 10:40,” She corrected, bringing her voice down, but remaining sure. She lifted her chin, raising herself just above him. “Don’t you remember the briefing yesterday?”</p><p>“So the airship lands soon. That says nothing for the time it will take for them to reach Fenestala. We’re far off from the site it will drop.”</p><p>Luna opened her mouth, but, yes that was right. There was no room for airships to drop near the manor, the mountain lacking the necessary flat surfaces to support such a vehicle. Even being royals themselves, they needed to travel by train before they could board one.</p><p>“It’s not so far,” she insisted.</p><p>“It’ll be at least an hour from the time they land,” Ravus scoffed. She hated when he did that, always when talking about something he felt more educated in than she. “They have to land and take the train.”</p><p>She <em>knew</em> that.</p><p>“You’re just trying to get out of your studies.”</p><p>“I am not!” her shoulders fell and dropped, emphasizing her irritation. “They said they’d be coming at 10:40.”</p><p>“Admit it.”</p><p>She had to roll her eyes at the way Ravus leaned in, cocksure eyebrow raising as an amused smile crossed his lips. He was joking, but his humor at her expense was hardly justified. Luna crossed her arms as his words settled over her.</p><p>Another hour. Her heart sunk with disappointment and the butterflies returned as embarrassment took hold at her having rushed down so soon.</p><p>“Well, either way,” she said, trying to save face. “It’s important to be ready for them, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Not this soon,” Ravus gave her a look, entertainment at the situation obvious, before ascending the staircase. He glanced back, indicating her to follow.</p><p>With lips pursed, Luna tapped her leg for Pryna’s attention, the two of them trailing after him. She caught up with him, keeping a quick pace to stay side by side with Ravus’ stride.</p><p>“So, it’ll be another hour.”</p><p>“I suspect,” Ravus said as he turned corner, heading for one of the many outer walkways connecting each part of the manor together. The bridge was all stone, solid and ancient, with no breakage but for the weathering its exterior had taken over the centuries.</p><p>“Do you think he’ll say anything to us?” she asked as Pryna’s fur brushed along her calves, the enclosed space forcing contact.</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Prince Noctis.”</p><p>Ravus snorted. “I doubt it.”</p><p>“I heard he talks with a few other kids at home. And, we are going to be spending a lot of time with him.”</p><p>“I won’t,” Ravus cut off. “I’ve got training on top of classes, and I’m supposed to begin sitting in on meetings next year. I can’t afford to… waste time on pleasantries.”</p><p>Luna’s jaw dropped.</p><p>“But it’s our first time meeting him!” And who knew when the next time would be, or how long Noctis would be staying. Even if he was mute, Luna was determined to spend as much time with Noctis as possible.</p><p>Maybe it was the prophecy that had her more excited than Ravus. He had no role in it that anyone knew of.</p><p>On that thought, Luna picked up her pace, stepping ahead of her brother.</p><p>“Making friends is a part of diplomacy.”</p><p>“I didn’t say you couldn’t. Just that I wouldn’t.”</p><p>“You’re not a grown up yet. Stop acting like it.”</p><p>“Maybe not, but I am more responsible.”</p><p>“More boring.”</p><p>“Whatever you say, sister.”</p><p>They reached the end of the walkway, arriving at the main connecting chamber of the manor. Here, multiple paths lined the walls, leading directly to almost every section of the property. Ravus angled himself to the home quarters as they entered, but Luna slowed, standing in the center of the chamber. He paused at the entrance, calling to her one last time.</p><p>“If you intend on skipping out on your classes, I suggest you find some other way to fill the time. It’s going to be a while.”</p><p>“What are you going to do?”</p><p>“I’m going to be the responsible one of us, and get ready to study.”</p><p>Luna’s cheeks puffed as he set off. He always had to get the last word, didn’t he? A yip at her side called her away, Pryna in need for attention.</p><p>Bending down, her features softened, and she gave the dog a few good pets.</p><p>“He’s the worst, isn’t he?”</p><p>Pryna cocked her head, understanding, Luna wanted to believe, as she angled herself before letting out a bark. It was returned by another, the only warning Luna received before a weight came down on her back.</p><p>“Umbra, no!”</p><p>-</p><p>Noon came, and Luna with it, returning to the entrance hall in time for the sun to start falling in from the windows behind her, and resuming the task of trying not to shake her leg as she sat. The last hour was agonizing. First, having to run to her room for her lint roller – wondering, as she removed Umbra’s fur from her dress, if he and Pryna <em>did</em> have a way to talk about her – then walking up to, and around, the gardens to quell the boredom.</p><p>Aside from the sun, there was no indication of any change at the entrance. The guard was the same as before, and she was still the only one there. Petting Pryna helped, but it had come to the point where she was starting to regret having spent so much time sitting around. In the gardens, she could have at least practiced Pryna’s tricks, allowing herself to forget the time.</p><p>But how could she, when she was supposed to meet the chosen himself?</p><p>“Lunafreya.”</p><p>She leapt to her feet.</p><p>“Mother!” Luna looked her over. She wasn’t in her full regalia, still looking a queen in the flowing layers of her dress, but with no elegant details, no jewels to adorn her. She was an oracle first today, stern face creased with stress that compelled Luna to explain herself.</p><p>“I thought they were going to arrive sooner.”</p><p>“It’s good of you to want to be present for our guests,” Mother bowed down, bending her knees to come to eye level with her. “There won’t be time for introductions, however. The prince is to come to the healing room straight away.”</p><p>“Can I watch?” the words tumbled from her mouth without thought. This she wanted to be present for. Now that she was nearly a teenager, she was determined to at least witness, if not assist, while Mother healed those afflicted by starscourge. Luna had asked about it in the past, but had always been rejected. “Too young”, according to Mother, to see the disease up close.</p><p>But surely, Noctis would be a special case.</p><p>“His Highness is in critical condition, Lunafreya,” Mother spoke slowly, serious. “He will be in a great deal of pain when he arrives, and the process will not be pleasant for him.”</p><p>She held her gaze on Luna, and she did the same in turn, inhaling as she straightened her back, trying to match her mother’s strength in spite of the sinking feeling in her chest.</p><p>At last, Mother asked her, “Are you ready to grow up?”</p><p>That caused her eyes to fall to the side, to the shiny marble of the staircase. The phrasing was daunting, a wall of sorts that towered over her, serving as a final blockade to what she wanted. A warning that what was on the other side would not be what she expected.</p><p>Ignoring the unease, she replied.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Mother didn’t seem as sure, face still as stone and eyes looking over Luna’s face, her doubt apparent. Luna took a breath again, puffing her chest out.</p><p>“You’re brave to say so,” the reply came, breaking the standstill, “If you need to leave at any time, just say so. It won’t be easy to see up close.”</p><p>“I’m not afraid.” Her voice didn’t waver, thank Shiva.</p><p>“But you’re allowed to be,” Mother said, “Your first look at the scourge is always the most difficult.”</p><p>“I want to be there for him,” She was making it a challenge on purpose, Luna could tell. If she backed out now, there was no knowing how much longer Mother would make her wait.</p><p>That was the way to make Mother smile, though it didn't meet her eyes, a strange sadness swimming in them. There were no more words between them, no time to question the look, as at that moment the doors opened, not to the Lucian retinue, but a page, running and halting at the sight of his queen and princess.</p><p>“They’re here, Your Majesty,” he reported, bowing low. “We’ll take them directly to the healing room.”</p><p>Mother nodded, and the page bowed again, vanishing down the hall.</p><p>True to his word, it wasn’t long before the doors had opened once more. Luna drew a sharp breath, quelling what anxiety she could as she searched for the correct posture to show for the retinue. Regal, but casual. Serious, but welcoming.</p><p>The royals that came through didn’t notice her attempt. Guards came first, followed swiftly by medical staff that crowded her view of the chairbound child being rushed in. She was only able to recognize him as Noctis because of the commotion surrounding him.</p><p>By his side was King Regis, looking so unlike any picture she had seen of him before. The one glimpse of his face – his eyes were only on the prince – she saw gave away how little he had slept in the past day, looking far older than he should have.</p><p>Upon reaching the staircase, the retinue regrouped, guards stepping aside so the medics could lift the prince’s chair and carry him. Mother motioned them her way, her only greeting as she began to lead them down to the connecting chamber.</p><p>Luna had planned what she was going to say when they arrived in her head. She practiced curtseying in the mirror the night before.</p><p>When Noctis was carried past her, she saw he was strapped to the chair, body dangling as it was lifted upwards. Luna fell behind immediately, the stream of people not so much as looking at her as she followed, and only growing longer as they began lining up for the walkway.</p><p>Each of them turned sharply in the direction of the healing room, and Luna continued her quiet trail. Seldom were her opportunities to enter here, only being allowed to do so when it was not in use. Walls closed in on them on all sides, light instead being provided by the glass ceiling overhead. When the sun shown, the panels above would be pulled open in an upward angle, bringing fresh air to the room, and brightening the sharp white of the walls.</p><p>No such ceremony was given to the space today. Noctis was already unstrapped and being placed gently on the altar in the center. It was more modern than the rest of the room, medical use prioritized over ceremony trappings. Fitted with restraints Luna knew to be necessary in the worst of cases, though today they remained still, draped on the sides.</p><p>Noctis was straightened out, still looking largely lifeless as Mother leaned over him, lips moving in barely audible prayer. The staff that the prince came accompanied by stepped back at her behest, leaving the space needed for Mother to do her work, and for King Regis to watch over his ailing son.</p><p>Now that she could see him better, Luna was shocked at just how pale Noctis was. Paler than she pictured even an average Insomnian to be, though such was characteristic of the Lucis Caelum line. There was nothing healthy about it; Noctis looked as if there were no blood running through his veins.</p><p>And that well could have been the case, with how apparent the ichor dripping from his face, streaking along his arms, was.</p><p>Instinct forced her to recoil, her brain crying that no, no she couldn’t handle this. She was frozen, captivated by her first glimpse of the starscourge in person and terrified at the same time. It wasn’t contagious, but her mind ignored that reality. Being in the same room, even feet apart, she felt so vulnerable that she was certain the scourge would flow from Noctis’ fingertips and swallow her.</p><p>“Your Highness?”</p><p>She shook her head. She could handle it. She’s waited years to do this.</p><p>“Your Highness, come outside.”</p><p>Her footsteps made no sound against the floor, even though they had when she entered the room. Her legs moved, yet she floated down the halls, led by an attendant mumbling assurances to her, telling her that she was brave to have come at all. In a blink, she was back at the home quarters, feeling hollow and useless.</p><p>Was she not the one meant to help Noctis? She was told the details of the destiny that would draw them together. Years she spent mentally preparing herself for the day that, at last, she’d meet her partner in the Six’s plan, show him the way, just as Gentiana, Mother, and all the spiritualists promised.</p><p>Three years she had waited. How was she supposed to help Noctis if she couldn’t even watch her own mother heal him?<br/>
“Luna?”</p><p>Not now.</p><p>“I thought you would be with the retinue,” Ravus let the door to his room stay ajar as he walked across the living space to see her. “I was informed of their arrival during-“</p><p>Luna couldn’t look at him, watching his feet come closer, right up to where she sat.</p><p>“Is everything alright?”</p><p>She couldn’t resist, standing and filling the space between them by wrapping her arms around his chest, hiding stinging eyes that kept threatening to betray her feelings.</p><p>“He looked-“ she sniffed, pulling her face back even though it meant he’d be able to hear her voice quiver. “Ravus, he looked horrible.”</p><p>Arms wrapped around her in an instant as Ravus sank to the floor to be closer. Concern creased into his forehead before he brought her in again, letting her conceal herself as he consoled her.</p><p>“I know you were looking forward to meeting him,” she shifted as he continued to hold her, reassuring. “When Mother has healed him, you’ll have a chance to know him properly.”</p><p>She nodded against his chest, and he squeezed, releasing her. Quick as he was to comfort, Ravus had always been equally fast in his execution, not allowing himself nor Luna to dwell on whatever matter had befallen them.</p><p>“We’ll greet them together when she’s done, yes? I’m sure there will be a chance at dinner.”</p><p>Luna nodded. This was a first meeting, under dire circumstances, but not the only impression she would get to make. She had as long as the king and prince stayed.</p><p>She could turn it around.</p><p>-</p><p>Dinner came, with Luna once again the first to arrive. She wound up not going to any other lessons that afternoon, wasting the rest of her afternoon away in her room, failing to read more than a few pages of her current book, her mind returning again and again to Noctis on the altar.</p><p>As she was first to arrive, she followed the motion of rising and sitting as others entered the dining hall. Once when Ravus entered, then again when Mother appeared.</p><p>Places were set for them, and food laid out, but no other spots were filled. Cutlery clinked against china, and neither Mother nor Ravus spoke. Luna could only bear the silence so long.</p><p>“Where are the king and prince?”</p><p>Mother stayed trained on her food.</p><p>“They won’t be joining us tonight. They’ll dine in the guest quarters instead,” her eyes looked weary, at least half as exhausted as the king and Noctis were, by what she implied. “You can formally be introduced tomorrow. After,” she emphasized, “you have caught up on your studies.”</p><p>Luna’s own plate was starting to look just as interesting as Mother made hers.</p><p>“Yes, Mother.”</p><p>-</p><p>“You can consider him fully recovered from the scourge. The aches will last a while, particularly with his spinal injury, but he’s no longer at risk.”</p><p>“The debt I owe you is insurmountable, Sylva.”</p><p>“I hope you don’t think so little of me as to assume my duties require compensation,” Sylva returned with a sharp smile.</p><p>It had taken a great effort on Clarus’ part to pull Regis from his son’s side to meet with Sylva. Following the healing process, Noctis had once again faded out of consciousness, and was taken, thankfully with no need to rush any longer, straight to the guests’ tower to recuperate. Regis remained with him, late into the night, his father’s voice faintly reminding him in his head how unbecoming it was of him to brandish his fear.</p><p>Regis told that voice to stuff it.</p><p>“In any case, it’s an easy procedure once done. We’re lucky it didn’t have time to germinate beyond a day.”</p><p>A reassurance, Regis knew, though it took the opposite effect, conjuring the image of how bad it <em>could</em> have been if they were unable to make it to Tenebrae. How Noctis’ body could have been overtaken by tar black patches of scourge, body and mind succumbing to the disease’s whims. How quickly it had manifested, how it was so much worse than it had any right to be. Noctis limp in his arms as he searched desperately for a heartbeat. The gashes in his back revealing how everything was out of place. Clear evidence that to use a potion would be to guarantee his son never walking again.</p><p>Regis rubbed the bridge of his nose. Indulging this imagery would do nothing for Noctis, nor would it ease his own mind. The attack was done, irreversible, and the outcome was as good as it could get. Months of physical therapy were a small price to pay for his child staying in one piece.</p><p>And that aside, there were more pressing matters to consider. Details that, as he lay in wait for their airship to land, crept into his mind, unignorable.</p><p>“Mariliths,” he said, anxieties swallowed and masked, “are native to the Cleigne region. They’re found in swamps and marshes. Insomnia is too dry for them, so they’re never sighted in the area.”</p><p>“You’ll have to forgive my lack of knowledge in the details of the species,” Sylva said, leaning forward in her seat opposite him to reach her coffee cup. “My expertise remains in their aggressive behavior, the amount of contact needed for each to infect humans. I understand that they are especially territorial, as far as daemons go. One would not stray far from it’s home without reason.”</p><p>The pause in her words lingered, not a sign that she had finished, but a moment to prepare her thoughts, used often over the decades. Regis knew better than to respond to it, as did any dignitary who had spent enough time in the queen’s presence to know her mannerisms. He watched her gather herself, eyes pointing toward the window, taking in the calm zen of the mountains so she could proceed.</p><p>“Tenebrae has had a similar issue in these past months. Unusual enough for the news to report, though not so extraordinary as to travel cross countries. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of our ronin attacks.”</p><p>“I regret I haven’t.”</p><p>Sylva sipped from her cup, setting it down on the table between them. “I’d have hesitated to broach the topic at all, had it not been for your marilith, and the consistency in which these ronin have been sighted by our southern border. We’ve lost nine members of our patrol.”</p><p>“Niflheim,” their mutual adversary. Little had come out of the empire in the past years, a celebrated retreat amongst Lucian citizens, who had largely forgotten the war that was once at their doorsteps. These days, in Lucis at least, it was forefront only for members of the military, trained more for the benefit of their allies than their own protection. Even Regis had little contribution these days, his dictation largely in approving how many troops would be sent to Tenebrae or Altissia to defend their stable, yet tense borders.</p><p>“Niflheim,” Sylva parroted. “Has Lucis been keeping its tabs on the empire?”</p><p>“We have.”</p><p>“Any in Zegnautus?”</p><p>Regis blinked, straightening himself. Though Lucis was not short on its stream of information from spies and sleepers alike, they had none assigned in the coveted base that was Zegnautus Keep. The keep was the pride of the empire, those working within its confines selected on an individual basis rather than from a stream of resumes. Researchers, soldiers, security, even secretaries were all exclusively selected from the native born population. No immigrants, no defectors from foreign nations, and no inquiries. Those chosen for assignment there lived on site year round, preventing the risk of fraternization with those that may want its secrets.</p><p>The security itself was a modern marvel worthy of the information concealed there; the magitek unites – MT’s – that had been so unstable in their infancy now manned the outside. Mindless bots that would take no questions from anyone who dared venture onto the property.</p><p>Though they were partnered against Niflheim, and had been for generations, Regis knew better than to lay out his country’s shortcomings, even for Sylva. However Tenebrae was getting its information was surely an effort years into its execution.</p><p>Remaining neutral, Regis responded.</p><p>“It sounds like you’ve penetrated them.”</p><p>The avoidance didn’t go over Sylva, her mouth tightening at the slight, but it didn’t deter her from continuing.</p><p>“There’s some intelligence Tenebrae has yet to disclose to Lucis, regarding the empire’s Research and Development. We’re both familiar with the magitek program… but there are more than machines replacing Niflheim’s armies these days.”</p><p>The pieces clicked effortlessly.</p><p>“Daemons.”<strike></strike></p><p>“My sleeper has provided evidence to suggest a correlation. A significant portion of the facility is housing daemons for research, but they don't keep each specimen under a microscope. If that were the case, they wouldn’t need as many as are reported to reside within. They don’t appear to have any means of controlling them…”</p><p>“But they want to,” Regis finished.</p><p>“And have been making the effort to,” Sylva confirmed with a nod. “For now, however, they’re more bombs than attack dogs. Uncontrollable, but able to be deployed and cause damage.”</p><p>There was an ease to which Sylva was able to convey herself, delivering her thoughts without having to delve into specifics. It made her a strong speaker, that nearly everyone could pick up on where she was going without her having to spell out the destination.</p><p>Daemons where they shouldn’t be. Niflheim blatantly using them in their research.</p><p>His son, unable to walk.</p><p>Regis clenched his fist, a gesture useful only in condensing his fury. Even if Sylva’s insinuation was true, even if his need for justice would gladly transfer to a lifelong enemy, there was little in the way of substantial connection. Accusations would be surmountable cause to escalate the war from stalemate to active aggression. Both Tenebrae and Lucis’ accounts would be, in the public’s eye, unconnected abnormalities, not worth the loss of life that siege would lead to.</p><p>No, the burden of proof would have Regis forced to accept the potential hit with gritted teeth.</p><p>“How much has your informant sent?”</p><p>“Unfortunately, he’s had to be selective in what he can provide. There are few opportunities to send word to us,” her hands came around her cup again, holding it in place as steam rose. “We know that they’re working with daemons, that they are being shipped in and out of facilities, and” she added, commanding his attention with a pause, drawing his eyes from his lap. “That the empire has taken an interest in introducing starscourge into their military force.”</p><p>Regis felt the color drain from his face. “They’d weaponize the scourge.”</p><p>“It would seem,” Sylva looked him over, face impartial, but Regis could register the harsh change in her tone. “As an ally, I am obligated to pass the warning on, along with any other revelations we uncover.”</p><p>“Any information of Tenebrae’s will be remembered by Lucis,” his voice was weary, mechanical, as if accepting a limitation on an assignment in order to see it done at all. It wasn’t as if the daemons had the empire’s seal scarred into their skin. This was the best they would be able to do; bide their time, and await the messenger.</p><p>Sylva rubbed her fingers along the cup, smiling humorously.</p><p>“You’ll be held to it, Regis.”</p><p>-</p><p>The day’s early start wasn’t too bad, given she had already risen at dawn prior to that. Catching up was simply a matter of elongating the class times and covering the material a bit quicker – all things Luna could do and found satisfaction in having accomplished in just one day.</p><p>The guest quarters were in the tower neighboring the home residence, as close as they could be to Luna’s own room. Which was to say, a good ten minute walk if she hurried. The guards nodded her arrival along; her presence anticipated and announced with a knock on the guest’s entrance, and the call of her name and title.</p><p>Her stomach fluttered, a return of yesterday’s butterflies, but she forced herself along when the doors parted.</p><p>It was no less grand than the home tower itself, open and more window then wall in the main room she headed into now. Cool teals and reflective golds helped to make the space even larger and brighter as it caught the sun throughout the day, and ensured a continually bright interior as night fell.</p><p>But the most important detail today was by one of the windows, bent over a tablet, seated in his wheelchair.</p><p>Noctis hadn’t looked up to her, unwilling to pause whatever he was busying himself with, or simply too engrossed to have noticed her at all. The closer she came the taller she felt, her age giving her an advantage along with Noctis being unable to stand at his full height.</p><p>He wasn’t alone. Though Tenebraen guards kept watch on the outside, two Lucian ones were stationed within. One at the door, and another nearby Noctis. She gave a bow when Luna approached, fist over her heart as opposed to the common folded hands and tipped head that was customary in Tenebrae, silver accents of her attire glinting as they fell forward in the afternoon light.</p><p>Her sandals echoed across the floor, yet Noctis still didn’t look up when she came before him. Up close, she could hear the sound of a game he was playing, and looked down at the two fighting figures on the screen. Nothing she recognized.</p><p>“Noctis?”</p><p>No reply, not even a glance up! In his lap, Noctis kept hold of the tablet, continuing at his game as if she hadn’t spoken at all.</p><p>“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she recited, sticking her hand out to prompt him. Gestures first. Of course talking alone wouldn’t be helpful. How could she have started off so rudely?</p><p>Noctis put the tablet down – it had taken long enough – but rather than take her hand he gripped the wheels at his sides and began rolling them back, grunting when his attempt to turn it caused him to smack against the window.</p><p>“Do you need help?”</p><p>Certainly he could nod.</p><p>His cheeks turned pink instead, the attention clearly unwanted as he jerked the wheels back. The guard came to his side, taking the handlebars and pulling him back carefully so he could correct himself. Pointedly, he angled the chair away from where she stood.</p><p>Searching for a way to recover, she tried honing in on the one bit of information Noctis was giving her.</p><p>“What’s your game? I’ve never seen it before.”</p><p>The tablet was repositioned closer to his chest. So, no sharing then. Luna picked at the fabric of her skirt, catching herself in the act and turning her hands to fists to stop herself. A guessing game wasn’t going to work… and she didn’t imagine Noctis would confirm for her if she figured out anything he’d want to do correctly.</p><p>Still, they had time now. Noctis may not be able to walk, but Mother had done her duty and taken the scourge from him. Though still sickly in appearance, she could see the healthy blue of his veins where ichor had coursed the day before. If nothing else, he was capable of interacting now.</p><p>“Do you want to see the gardens? Or the rest of the manor? There’s many places we can explore.”</p><p>At least, she thought after the silence, he didn’t grunt at her this time. But it was clear the conversation, or rather, her talking at Noctis, wasn’t going anywhere. If she were in a chair like this, she’d drop the tablet in a heartbeat if it meant getting to go do something.</p><p>Noctis, however, gave no sign of wanting anything more than what he already had. The situation he was in was one that he seemed determined to have remain as is, angered to have been disturbed at all.</p><p>Mere minutes into properly meeting Noctis and here she was, shifting her weight on her feet, wanting to leave all over again. Intimidated as she was the day before, when there was something genuine to be intimidated by. Rejected, not through words, but with sheer indifference, bordering disdain.</p><p>How stupid was she, to have walked in with expectations when she knew nothing about Noctis.</p><p>“You can call on me when you want to do anything,” she ventured, keeping her voice as level as she could manage. “Or if you want to go somewhere. I can move the chair for you, if you need.”</p><p>Noctis tapped his fingers on the concealed game, and hit the side of the case, raising the volume.</p><p>“I,” the volume rose. “I hope we’ll become friends, Prince Noctis.”</p><p>Keeping her head high, and her walk slow, dignified as she could handle, Luna left.</p><p>-</p><p>“Just point if you want to go any direction in particular.”</p><p>
  <em>I want to stay here</em>
</p><p>Regis tried to smile through Noctis’ lethargy. Each day since they arrived he had been this way, able to endure the necessary prodding by doctors when Regis explained it would help him walk again, but resistant as ever to doing anything beyond that. He swiftly rejected both Lunafreya and Ravus’ attempts to interact with him, though thankfully, both royals had accepted his turning away and didn’t provoke him further.</p><p>“I know, you’ll be able to come back this afternoon and rest. Remember, we’re-“</p><p>He cut himself off as Noctis began typing again.</p><p>
  <em>Im tired</em>
</p><p>“It’s just for a little while,” Regis assured, reaching down to give what hoped would be a grounding squeeze on his son’s shoulder. “We’re guests here, and that means indulging our hosts. They want to get along with you.”</p><p><em>there</em>|</p><p>Noctis paused, finger hovering over the keys thoughtfully. Looking for an excuse that allowed Regis to grant him the seclusion he craved, no doubt. And he relented plenty of times in the past week, for these marginal justifications Noctis gave when the Fleuret’s attempted to socialize with him. Tiredness had been a go-to that he accepted the first few days, until it became obvious that it was more script than truth.</p><p>He liked to think his permissiveness wasn’t too counterintuitive. As far as he was concerned, Noctis had gone above and beyond in his development in the past months; texting regularly to communicate with others, removing himself from stressful situations – they still needed to work on him staying and coping where he was, but progress had undeniably been made on his end, however incremental. Guards had been trained over again to help de-escalate outbursts. Noctis was able to catch up.</p><p>That meant pushing through physical therapy, and socializing – supervised socializing – with the Fleuret’s.</p><p>
  <em>There loud</em>
</p><p>It took strength to work with efforts like this. As effortless as their communication became compared to his toddler years, Regis still found himself giving easy affection to Noctis for each and every text. Even more so when he found Noctis able to maintain the behavior after an attack that by all accounts, should have set him back.</p><p>“We’ll take lunch in here when we’re done,” he offered.</p><p>Noctis looked down at the tablet, making Regis wonder if he should release the chair’s handles and come around to face him. He could only assume Noctis’ expression like this, face sunken in by stress and frown falling further with his eyes, growing awareness that yes, the next few hours would be shared in the company of others.</p><p>The tablet was put to the side, with no further word from Noctis. Reluctant acceptance.</p><p>Today, Sylva arranged for both their families a brief tour of Fenestala. Far more for Noctis’ benefit than Regis’ – he had made enough visits that he didn’t have to worry about losing his bearings between walkways – though he could admit to himself that the refresher would serve him too.</p><p>Years had passed between now and the last visit. Aulea had accompanied him then, always ready to travel to Tenebrae when opportunity arose. She and Sylva had become fast friends back in the day, despite their contrasting personalities. Where Aulea was quick witted and bold enough to show it publically, Sylva’s serious demeanor was rare to break until she was behind closed doors. Even then, she responded to Aulea’s boisterousness with warm smiles and little commentary.</p><p>They arrived, made pleasantries, and thankfully Sylva toned down on the history of the rooms she led them through, keeping a brevity that Noctis might be able to appreciate. Even better, Noctis complied with his own request to keep the tablet down when she wasn’t speaking.</p><p>Any other family’s child would have slipped by unperturbed if they chose to keep their nose in some electronic. But as always, Noctis was anything but an ordinary child.</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis ran his hands along the side of the tablet’s rubber case, pressing lightly against the raised bump of the power button. Every minute that ticked by prompted the urge to return to it. The tour Dad insisted was going to help him “get acquainted” with the manor and its residents was beyond boring. Every room was painted the same bright, airy colors – the complete opposite of home. Huge windows no matter where they turned meant he had to constantly shield his eyes from the sun. And the constant going in and out of doors made it impossible to feel comfortable. Inside was too cold. Outside was too hot. What kind of stupid morons made a manor in a dumb mountain where they couldn't even have it be one building?</p><p>And then there was Ravus. He caught a sneer from Ravus in one room early on, while the queen was explaining some dumb details that no one could possibly care about. Did he expect him to pay attention to this stuff? The citadel was just as full of paintings and statues as the manor, so why should he care?</p><p>Lunafreya was worse than her brother. She was <em>always</em> looking at him, each time Noctis checked, stopping only when his eyes caught hers. It was like when he and Ignis were kids – he was always staring, always asking questions and acting like a grown up even though he was still just a kid. An older kid, but still.</p><p>Eventually, they ended up all stuffed into an elevator, and then his chair was carried by Clarus to the rooftop; a garden.</p><p>It wasn’t like any he had seen before. At home, the gardens had trees and bushes, not <em>just</em> flowers. And the flowers they had were a whole bunch of colors instead of just blue. There were glass windows all around, even up over their heads, instead of the open sky there was here.</p><p>What was the point of having a garden this big if they only put one kind of flower in it? Why make it so big if there were only just one?</p><p>“-we cultivate over two thousand sylleblossoms here, the most in the country-“</p><p>Sure, those.</p><p>Dad and Clarus broke off from them with the queen, and Ravus soon after, finally giving Noctis a chance to turn his tablet back on. He was forced to squint as the light came on, making the already present glare worse on his eyes.</p><p>Idly, Noctis opened one game, then another, disinterested. The past days had been just this, pages of games he liked, but wasn’t in the mood for. What he wanted was the racing game he had spent the previous week working on, or one of his platformers on his Playstation. All of his systems were back home though, and as far as he knew, Lunafreya and Ravus didn’t have any video games.</p><p>A few minutes of fiddling with a puzzle app gave way to scribbling on his drawing pad. The tablet was starting to get hot – Dad said that happened if too many games were opened in a row, but it was probably because of how sunny it was. There were barely any clouds, and with how high up they were, the sky felt endless, completely unblocked.</p><p>One time, Ardyn talked to him about – well, yelled in this case – all the trees they had in Limbo. There wasn’t much sun there; any they could see had to come through the trees, and when they looked up, or climbed, what sky they could find was usually a rainy gray color.</p><p>Ardyn missed the normal sky, and though he wouldn’t see anything Noctis put on the tablet, it felt good and right to draw him here where there was so much of it. He could do drawings himself these days, not as well as Ignis, but Ardyn always told him it was the thought that counted.</p><p>He had just switched to blue and was scribbling the sky in around Ardyn –a difficult process because he kept coloring his robes on accident – when, of course, he was interrupted.</p><p>“It looks nice. Who is this?”</p><p>Instantly, he clicked the home button and turned the tablet off, pulling it to his chest and crossing his arms protectively.</p><p>Noctis was sick of people asking about his drawings. If he had to finish it later then that’s what he would do, but no one was allowed to watch. Especially not a dumb princess.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I like plenty of things in this chapter, but I especially love Luna and Ravus' sibling banter and His Royal Brattiness' description of Fenestala.</p><p>Y'all have no idea how excited I am to give the rest of Tenebrae ; )</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Careful. Come up easy now, nice and slow.”</p>
<p>Even with physical therapists flanking him, Noctis grimaced as he was hauled from his chair to the table, where his stretches were to begin. Regis loathed seeing him like this, watching his limbs shake with the simple effort of minimal movement, of pushing his body weight upwards, kicking and flexing weakly when he was told. He was quick to give up, huffing and turning his head away when the strain became too much, until Regis would come to his side and remind him, once again, the purpose of the exercises.</p>
<p>Leaving Noctis to do it on his own was out of the question, with how much free time Regis was allotted by his new schedule. Before, council meetings would call him away in the early hours, preventing him from affording most of his day to his son. Now, they were earlier still, compliments of the difference in time zone, and while his work hours never truly <em>finished</em>, it did leave most of his afternoon clear when the calls concluded.</p>
<p>The time was devoted the best he could think to use it. In part, by combing through every last detail of Tenebrae and Lucis’ relationship with Sylva – who was surely as exhausted of the subject as he by now. And, when Noctis was released from schooling, Regis would make sure the afternoon was spent together.</p>
<p>“Ten more, Noctis.”  </p>
<p>The pained groan drew Regis from his thoughts and back to his son. If he could, he’d make it so they only had to sit, relax, do whatever it was that Noctis would find solace in. However, the very sound that drew him to come closer was the reason that physical therapy took up such a large portion of the day.</p>
<p>“Just ten, Noctis,” he reassured, forcing himself to squat so he could be level with him. “The rest will be easier once you’ve started.”</p>
<p>Noctis squinted at him, arms shaking as he pushed himself up again.</p>
<p>“Nine.”</p>
<p>He collapsed against the table, wincing as his body met the firm leather. Regis nodded, being sure not to push the point of encouragement too much, lest Noctis grow frustrated by his words. Assurances often were more of an agitant, detrimental rather than the boost Noctis needed to keep going.</p>
<p>So, Regis kept his support largely limited to gestures, a nod every few successful repetitions. Words only when the pause between them grew too long.</p>
<p>“Four.”</p>
<p>If there was a sight he couldn’t stand, it was this. The part where Noctis’ tears came, so close to finishing his first set and already wanting to give up entirely. It blended in with his sweat, partly formed from the exercise, but Regis knew it was more than just that. In it he could see his son’s anxiety, the spotlight making him burn as attention was forced upon his shortcomings.</p>
<p>“Just four more, you’re doing well.”</p>
<p>His words had little impact. Noctis allowed his arms to spread out against the table, unwilling to keep the position any longer.</p>
<p>“You’re close, Noctis, keep it up,” the therapist encouraged. It wouldn’t motivate, however. Regis could see the plain signs of defeat, of Noctis having to surrender to his body’s inability to make it through without wanting to give out.</p>
<p>He knew the feeling well, and it let itself be known through an ache riding up his own leg.</p>
<p>Wordless, Regis stood, removing his cowl and shedding his jacket. His actions went unnoticed as the therapist continued coaxing Noctis to continue, taking an arm – light touches only, as Regis requested – and supporting it.</p>
<p>“Put your weight where I’m holding it, on both sides.”</p>
<p>It was good fortune that the room was fitted for multiple patients, even though it was empty for the time being. It meant equipment was at the ready for a dozen or so people at a time, and extra tables for those needing them to work through their injuries. Each of them lined up, side by side.</p>
<p>Now dressed down to his undershirt and slacks, Regis ignored his own tinge of awkwardness, and settled himself on the table next to Noctis’, calling him to attention. Once, twice, before Noctis turned his way. Confusion was barely visible through his stressed features as he took in the position Regis assumed, a match of the one Noctis was previously in.</p>
<p>“We’ll do it together, I’ll follow you.”</p>
<p>Noctis stared at him, bewildered, concentration breaking as his body shuddered under its own weight due to the distraction. Regis cringed with him, but remained determined, straightening his posture to mimic the form the physical therapist had taught.</p>
<p>Face scrunched, Noctis got up again, a mix of pain and uncertainty as he readjusted his palms and looked back at Regis. The eye contact was brief, but when he turned away, he pushed, stretching his spine back.</p>
<p>“Three.”</p>
<p>Regis followed his lead, ignoring how his own back appreciated joining in a little too much. He was certain that on his own, the reps would be completed in seconds, but for Noctis, he took his time.</p>
<p>“Two… and one. Good work, Noctis, Your Majesty. Let’s start on those legs next.”</p>
<p>Oh, his body was definitely going to like this more than he wanted.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Personally, Noctis didn’t buy for a minute that physical therapy actually helped.</p>
<p>Every day he was forced to go there, before or after classes – sometimes before <em>and</em> after! It barely changed anything. The soreness in his back was a constant, no matter how many dumb exercises he was made to do. He hated being dragged there every day, and he hated how his own guard made sure he followed through on stretching in between visits.</p>
<p>It cut into time on his tablet. It even cut into the classwork that for some reason, he still had to do even though he was in Tenebrae. It was as difficult as ever, and the tutor he was working with while here was obnoxiously strict about getting <em>everything</em> done by the end of the day. There was no homework at least, which Noctis hated since forever, but it didn’t take long to realize the reason why was because of how much had to be done during lessons.</p>
<p>Now, Noctis was back in the guest quarters, the tower that he was confined to when not being made to stretch or attend classes. Even here, it was hard to be alone, with the guards who stayed on top of him rarely agreeing to texts asking that they go away. They were behind him constantly ever since the mar… the accident, following him like a shadow.</p>
<p>Stupid. He didn’t need a babysitter at his age, wheelchair or not. He could steer it without help, even in the narrow pathways between towers, and was fine outside of that. Sure, he would get cramps and pains, and okay, his leg was hurting right now, but it was nothing he couldn't handle on his own.</p>
<p>Bending forward, Noctis reached down to pull his leg up, kicking weakly. His hip was the real problem, but shifting around didn't help, and neither did straightening himself up.</p>
<p>Back to his game. An arena fighter he downloaded that morning, only to get pulled away from before he could start so he could attend class. Everyone was way stronger than he was, which wasn’t fair because he had only been playing for an hour. It would take at least a week to get weapons good enough to keep up with the other players, and the skins that he wanted.</p>
<p>He was bored of it alrea-</p>
<p>
  <em>Sniff.</em>
</p>
<p>Noctis shuddered – would have leapt if his legs allowed him to – at the warm, wet thing pressing against his knee, sucking air and nearly dropping his tablet as he realized a <em>dog</em> was sniffing him. A fluffy black and white one, that began to lick his knee, pausing only to nuzzle at his pants, look up, as if for approval, and continue the slimy task.</p>
<p>At home, Noctis didn’t have any pets, and rarely saw animals up close. Tenebrae was no different; the only animals he’d seen were the flocks of birds flying outside the windows, swooping from tower to tower.</p>
<p>The dog eyed him, but didn’t pause, as Noctis reached to smooth his hand over its face. It sank into the fur like black snow when he brushed past the ears, fingers swallowed as they parted fur down in streaks. Even though it was wiry on top, like Carbuncle, the deeper his fingers went, the softer the fur became.</p>
<p>His next intruder made its presence more immediately known, pushing the door to his room open wider still as it slinked in. An all white dog this time, but very similar looking to the first. Maybe the same type?</p>
<p>Clearly, neither traveled alone, because seconds later he heard a clattering sound coming his way, stopping just outside before… ugh.</p>
<p>Princess Lunafreya poked into the room, just her top half and a bit of skirt. Her lip was caught between her teeth, eyes darting from dog, to dog, to him.</p>
<p>“Prince Noctis, I apologize for disturbing you,” her voice was as wary as her feet, creeping into the room and beckoning the dogs with her hand, who returned to her side.</p>
<p>“Pryna and Umbra, the dogs,” her fingers laced together. “They like to wander from time to time, Pryna especially. I – oh,” she trailed off as Umbra, he assumed from the black coat, returned to him, resting his muzzle against Noctis leg, hot air blowing out of his nose.</p>
<p>“He’s not bothering you, is he? I can get them to leave.”</p>
<p>No. Not really. Umbra was warm, much warmer than the frigid indoors he couldn’t manage to get used to. Like an electric blanket, heating Noctis’ leg the instant he lay his head on it. Umbra could definitely stay. Lunafreya, he could do without.</p>
<p>She was easy to get rid of, at least, all he had to do really was ignore her for a bit, Noctis thought to himself as he reached to rub Umbra’s nose.</p>
<p>Only to immediately be growled at.</p>
<p>He ripped his hand back, warning taken well, and just as quickly Lunafreya ran to pull Umbra away, wrapping her arms under the dog’s front legs.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry! You must have gotten close to his mouth, he doesn’t like that,” she explained, looking up from her couched position on the floor. “He won’t bite, I promise.”</p>
<p>She muttered at Umbra to leave, giving him a light push in the doorway’s direction. The dog squirmed out of her grasp, shaking before walking to the side. Rather than leaving, however, he merely made his way to the white one – Pelna? – who licked him in greeting.</p>
<p>“Messengers,” Noctis looked back to Lunafreya, who was giving him a forced smile that he was accustomed to. Plenty of people smiled at him like this, and it nearly always meant that the person either didn’t believe what he was saying, or just didn’t care.</p>
<p>Conden- condesce- there was a word for it Ardyn had told him, but he couldn’t remember.</p>
<p>“They always act pretty strange, don’t they? Though,” she slowed, as if catching herself in some improper act. “I don’t suppose you’ve met with any?”</p>
<p>Noctis ignored her prattle, leaning in his seat to watch the dogs some more as Lunafreya looked about the room, as if some other messenger might appear because of what she said. Umbra left the side of the other one to rub against the wall, not unlike Carbuncle scratching an itch against a tree, or Noctis’ legs.</p>
<p>He was pulled away from the sight at the gasp Lunafreya gave, and the flurry of her movement from her knees to the bedside table. There wasn’t much of interest there. Only a lamp, his charger, and his-</p>
<p>“You have a carbuncle?”</p>
<p>-<em>his </em>carbuncle.</p>
<p>Noctis shoved his tablet between his knees, grabbing the wheels of his chair and positioning it. She wasn’t allowed to touch his things, especially not the carbuncle that Dad gave him. One of the first things he was ever able to take with him to Limbo.</p>
<p>“Have you ever seen it while sleeping? Mother gave one to Ravus once, when he was sick, but he said he never saw one. It’s beautiful.”</p>
<p>Finally in the direction he needed to be, Noctis placed his hands far back, and rolled himself forward. Lunafreya took note, jumping back – <em>still </em> holding his carbuncle. It worked fine for Noctis, halting the wheels so he could snatch it back from her. He gave her a well-practiced glare, gripping a wheel with his other hand, scraping the rubber with his nails.</p>
<p>Dad told him shortly after arriving that he could not fight with Lunafreya or Ravus, no matter what they may have started. Obviously, he didn’t think for even ten seconds about one of them taking his stuff. His nostrils flared as he sucked in as much air as he could, letting it out with a snort that warded her further away.</p>
<p>“Sorry, Mother- Queen Sylva,” she stumbled over her words. “Is the only one I’ve known who’s seen a messenger before. I’ve never met anyone my age that has. The dogs are a bit different of course, but Gentiana – she’s the high messenger of Shiva – never appears to anyone but me. Not even Queen Sylva! You’d be the first I’ve known to see a real carbuncle. If you’ve seen one, that is.”</p>
<p>She posed the last thought as question, concluding her ramble, as if expecting Noctis to respond. He didn’t see why it mattered; many people had asked about Carbuncle before, but they were the same people who never cared when he talked about Ardyn.</p>
<p>Air shook in his lungs as Noctis tried to do the deep breathing he was taught. Even if it was her dumb manor, the room was technically his. It should be up to him who got to come in and who had to leave, and it wasn’t fair for him to have to go somewhere else to be alone.</p>
<p>She just kept talking.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. I had wondered… with us both being connected. I thought you might have been able to communicate with some of the messengers.”</p>
<p>Noctis rolled his eyes. Even if he did, he didn’t see any reason she would care. No one ever had… but that part about the high messenger caught his interest. A messenger that only Lunafreya was able to see.</p>
<p>“I shouldn’t have grabbed it. Please forgive me, Prince Noctis.”</p>
<p>She bowed, hands folded against her front, and hurried to the dogs, messengers, to lead them out.</p>
<p>His hand twitched on the wheel, realizing he didn't want Umbra and Pelna to leave.</p>
<p>“Umbra, Pryna, come.”</p>
<p>Umbra and Pryna.</p>
<p>They vanished out of the room as easily as they entered, door being shut behind them. Noctis tightened his hold on the carbuncle, turning it over in his hand.</p>
<p>A messenger only one person could see.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ardyn are you-“</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Quiet.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The order stopped him mid sentence. Of course, he should have recognized Ardyn wouldn't want to be interrupted. Sitting on the forest floor, legs crossed, hands at ease on his knees, and closed eyes meant Noctis had two options. Find something quiet to do, or join in. Do not make a fuss.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Meditation was not on the mind for Noctis, however, so he stood, shifting from foot to foot, stretching onto his toes. He had waited long enough to be able to stand again after a full day of sitting, even with going to bed early just to see Ardyn.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>An impatient sigh escaped his lips. Just waiting made him too antsy to be as patient as Ardyn needed. Carbuncle had yet to slink in from wherever he was hiding tonight, and Noctis really didn’t want to wander off in case Ardyn was almost finished.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Eventually, Noctis sank down himself, although he still didn’t genuinely wish to take part. He sat crisscross, holding his feet in place and allowing his legs to jiggle as he crushed his hands between his ankles.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ardyn finally opened his eyes, just barely squinting.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Are you a messenger?” Noctis blurted out.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Am I what?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Um,” his leg shook harder. In his effort to get an answer from Ardyn, he forgot to explain. “Like, do you um, speak to the Six, or. I mean, for the Six?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ardyn’s mouth fell, only slightly, studying Noctis with a perplexed expression.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I do not.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Noctis gripped his feet harder, face falling in disappointment.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What’s brought this about?” Ardyn demanded, blinking his eyes open fully and rolling his shoulders, working through some ache he’d either not deign to explain, or give far too much detail on if Noctis asked about it. “I presume the…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He didn’t finish, even as Noctis waited for the rest. Just hardened his expression, shifting eyes casting to the side, a tighter throat and a clenched jaw.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Noctis had to fill in the blanks, not him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Lunafre- um, the princess was talking about them. And she can only see- only she can see her messenger,” he stumbled over his words as the need to share what he learned with Ardyn returned. Even if Ardyn wasn’t a messenger, it was still something he was sure Ardyn would want to hear about. “And the oracle has some too.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Does she now…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He nodded, looking down at his feet, reaching to pick at the few blades of grass nearby. The ground was barren tonight, the dirt thankfully not damp like last time, but still soft enough to be comfortable.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Who are her messengers, Star?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She’s got two dogs that I saw,” he ripped the grass up, bringing it close so he could shred it into finer pieces. “They came into my room and I pet one. And she has, um, the special one… Gentiana. That's the one only she can see. Do you know them?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ardyn let out a trained breath, eyes sliding shut once more. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It didn’t take much for Noctis to mirror him. Ardyn’s bad mood hadn’t made things any easier ever since the…the car crash. Walking again, in Limbo at least, was more challenging than it should have been thanks to his refusal to help, and Noctis remained shut out since then. They barely played at all over the past weeks; Ardyn more focused than ever on meditation and encouraging him to bother Carbuncle instead. Even his willingness to tell stories – provided Noctis sit somewhere other than in his lap – dwindled to occurring a few times a week at most. It was as if Dad and Ardyn switched personalities, with Dad letting him do more of what he wanted than usual, and Ardyn being the one to set limits.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Seeing Ardyn sad brought him upright, regardless of all of that, walking towards him to seek and give reassurance.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Star.”<br/>Noctis stopped, shoulders drooping. “Sorry.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you of last time.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Noctis nodded, a tiny movement, as he attempted not to dwell on the memory. Once they figured out what exactly he did in the first place, Ardyn apologized. He didn’t mean to hurt him. It never happened before.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Maybe…” he said, not hopeful, but wanting to push all the same. “Maybe nothing bad will happen this time.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Not a warning this time, but a softer tone, closing the discussion. No, coupled with an Ardyn who wouldn’t look at him, meant nothing more would be allowed on the subject.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m gonna look for Carbuncle,” it was a last ditch effort for attention. One that, as expected, yielded no result that would keep him from what he wasn’t even all that interested in doing.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Do so, Star.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Noctis walked.</em>
</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The dogs returned.</p>
<p>Just like before, Umbra appeared first as if from nowhere to sniff and lick Noctis’ knees, while Pryna scratched the door to the sitting room open. It was a bit funny for Noctis. The guard who was with him that day was in complete shock at the one dog who managed to get in, and Noctis had to hide his face when she did a double take at the doorway that was very much shut to the second, resuming her composure after letting it in. Once again, Pryna was followed by a pink faced Lunafreya, hair sticking in strands to her neck thanks to the rain pattering outside.</p>
<p>“Prince Noctis, I apologize for the disturbance,” she gasped, wind taken out of her from the run she was certainly doing on the walkway to the guest tower. “It was the dogs again, I’ll take care of them.”</p>
<p>He closed his game with a double tap to the home button, fingers scrambling for the notepad so he could type. Half way through, he grabbed Umbra’s collar, worried he wasn’t going to be fast enough. The growl he earned was admittedly deserved, but managed to stop Lunafreya in time. His chair was pulled back by the guard as she made a second apology, allowing him the time he needed to finish and hold the tablet out.</p>
<p>
  <em>I want to see them</em>
</p>
<p>At first, she focused primarily on moving Umbra out of the way, not understanding the purpose of his action until he thrust it a second time. Lunafreya turned, face pinching when she read.</p>
<p>“The… dogs?”</p>
<p>His head jerked up and down. Obviously the dogs. Uncertainty played on her face, but eventually, she called Pryna over.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what’s gotten into Umbra lately, but she may be a bit sweeter. Just don't grab her or anything like that.”</p>
<p>Yeah, yeah. Pryna arrived by Lunafreya’s side, and after a nuzzle, followed the direction of her finger to look at Noctis. Her eyes were thinner than Umbra’s were, coat just as fluffy, yet far more serious looking. Even her movements were slower, approaching him not with caution, but something Noctis couldn’t detect, in the realm of curiosity and consideration.</p>
<p>Like Umbra before, he tested the fur, finding it softer and fuzzier the deeper he wormed his fingers through it. A perfect place for the extra cold day they were having, thanks to the rain streaking down the glass.</p>
<p>“She likes you,” Lunafreya said when Pryna gave him a lick after several strokes.</p>
<p>Noctis ignored the comment, continuing to pet as far back as he could without falling out of his chair. Thankfully, Pryna noticed the difficulty he was having, and came around on her side so he could access her better. He started up at her forehead, noticing that she was much more tolerant of being touched there than Umbra was. The other dog took the opportunity to curl up around Lunafreya, who relented to him and sat to allow him to rest his head on her legs.</p>
<p>Both were messengers, Noctis thought as he reached her tail, taken aback at just how thin it was once he held down the fur. Carbuncle was the same, but he had a purpose that Dad and Ardyn helped explain when he was younger. The dogs, and Gentiana too, now that he thought about it, were a mystery that not even Ardyn had answers for. That information was reserved for Lunafreya alone.</p>
<p>He wondered what kind of things the dogs were good at healing, if any. Noctis wasn’t stupid, of course. He knew that most messengers were just that; spirits that the Six sent on Eos to deliver… messages. Duh. But which of them sent dogs of all things? Whenever he saw messengers in books and movies, they were almost always people.</p>
<p>It was Noctis’ turn to flush as he realized who he’d have to ask. The tablet’s weight was against his leg, forgotten as his attention was diverted to petting Pryna, and feeling strangely heavier against him now. He balanced it against his leg and hand, keeping the unused one in Pryna’s fur as he typed “<em>what do they do</em>” for Lunafreya.</p>
<p>“Umbra and Pryna?”</p>
<p>Noctis rolled his eyes, nodding.</p>
<p>“Well,” her hand continued stroking Umbra’s fur, eyes going from Noctis, to Pryna, to the window, and back to the dogs again. “They appeared a few years ago. For the most part, they just keep me company, but they’ve helped with other things too.”</p>
<p>“Pryna likes to lead me places, and Umbra brings me things he thinks I’d like, or need,” she laughed, high and a touch unnatural, as if under some unknown pressure. “If you’ve noticed him showing up without making any noise, that means he’s decided to be sneaky with you. He likes to be funny like that.”</p>
<p>Yeah, he noticed that on both occasions, and was nearly scared out of his chair the first time. Lunafreya’s answer was not exactly what Noctis was expecting, although he hadn’t given any thought to what the dogs’ purpose might be to begin with outside the possibility of them healing things. But Umbra made a bit of sense, he guessed. Bringing someone things could be like bringing a message.</p>
<p>Curiosity growing, he decided to ask more.</p>
<p>
  <em>What about genti/</em>
</p>
<p>How the heck was he supposed to spell her name?</p>
<p>
  <em>What about gentyana</em>
</p>
<p>“Gentiana,” she read, as if correcting. “She’s a high messenger, which means she communes directly with one of the Six. The agent of Shiva, in her case.”</p>
<p>“<em>Whats she talk about,</em>” he typed quickly. Lunafreya inched closer as he did so, making the display of his reply smoother.</p>
<p>“The future! Prophecies,” her voice was as bright as the shine in her eyes. “I’ve recorded many of them over the years. Well, everything she tells me revolves around our own destiny. Gentiana’s always made sure I’ll be prepared.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Ours?</em>
</p>
<p>It was all he could think to ask, parroting back the one bit of Lunafreya’s explanation that stuck out. Anyone his age knew about prophecies, but they were mostly stories from religious books, past events that had nothing to do with him, written thousands of years before he was born.</p>
<p>Lunafreya, despite being the one to bring it up, looked just as confused when she read, eyebrows raising before she looked up.</p>
<p>“Our destiny,” she repeated, looking less her usual embarrassed self and more shocked. “You mean, you don't…”</p>
<p>A surge of self-consciousness took over him. Here Lunafreya was, acting again as if they were close friends, expecting him to know these things even though they met just a few weeks ago. Making fun of him because she was older, just the way Ignis did, as if his stupid, “special”, classes made him smarter or better.</p>
<p>Noctis knew how to best handle these situations. Back out, and if they keep pushing, he can push back. He slid his tablet behind him, ready to grab the wheels and get back to his room, but what Lunafreya said next gave him pause.</p>
<p>“Do you want to come with me? I want to show you something, if that’s alright with you?”</p>
<p>And Noctis saw how she didn’t stare at him, but flickered her eyes to the guard stationed by his side. So constantly by his side.</p>
<p>She wanted to talk to him alone, he realized. It was not the usual way kids would approach him. Grown ups were always a part of his life for, well, pretty much forever. He was never alone with Gladio or Ignis, not since he was a little kid. It was one of those things that no one ever explained to him, but he could tell was a rule. The guard was for him. Because he was a prince, perhaps, but she and the others didn’t become a permanent staple to his side until a few years ago.</p>
<p>Lunafreya didn’t know the rules. At least, he didn’t think she did.</p>
<p>But, even if it involved her, he liked the idea of breaking them.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>As it turned out, Lunafreya could talk far faster than Noctis previously thought was possible.</p>
<p>Her words fell from her mouth like the rain outside, rapping against the window in hard, clattering torrents. Each drop tapping his attention as she delved into her explanations of Umbra and Pryna, Gentiana, and how fascinated she was with Carbuncle. She saw each of her messengers while awake, but never once in her dreams the way he was accustomed to. She wanted to though, calling Carbuncle “cute”, and asking more questions than Noctis had ever answered in his life.</p>
<p>No, he didn’t have wings.</p>
<p>Yes, he can heal… and after a long pause, yes. He confirmed that Carbuncle helped with his legs.</p>
<p>“You have to tell the spiritualists!” she exclaimed, “They always hear about anything pertaining to myself, and since you’re the True King, they’ll want to know about you too.”</p>
<p>Which led to him frowning, glaring, to Lunafreya hurriedly adding that he <em>should</em>, but maybe it wasn’t too important. And of course, it led to his own questions.</p>
<p>
  <em>What does a true king do</em>
</p>
<p>And her answer was flooding, obnoxiously, overwhelmingly Lunafreya. Telling him of a coming darkness, how he was the one who will stop it, and how she was going to help.</p>
<p>“I don’t know everything either, of course, but the spiritualists help me in interpreting everything. Gentiana is able to be plain in her words some of the time,” she said with a laugh, one of the few identifiable breathers in her speech. “She’s directly identified you as the True King, at least. I’ve waited years for us talk about it together.”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid,” she bit her lip, “I don’t know quite what you’re meant to do myself. But I am here to support you, and Gentiana’s made sure to help me even now, with your arrival.“</p>
<p>Lunafreya stopped, expression taken over by trepidation.</p>
<p>“That’s a bit silly, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>The talking with Gentiana? Noctis frowned, unsure what exactly Lunafreya was getting at. He talked with Carbuncle plenty of times, even if the fox didn’t speak back. Was it because she was getting help from her? Wasn’t that the point of messengers?</p>
<p>“You mentioned Carbuncle has been with you since you were younger,” apparently his lack of response wasn't an issue. “Have they- has he ever mentioned anything about it?”</p>
<p>It wasn’t easy to keep up with her train of thought, but Noctis liked to think he got the gist of them having some sort of destiny, and he liked to think that Lunafreya wasn’t so dumb as to think Carbuncle, an animal like the dogs, was somehow supposed to be like Gentiana.</p>
<p>“<em>He doesn’t talk,</em>” he reminded her. Like the dogs, he didn’t add.</p>
<p>“Don’t they? I had heard- well, you’d know better” she stopped, considering this before changing the subject again.</p>
<p>“Well, he’s just one, isn’t he? I have contact with the three I’ve told you about, but do you have any others that do talk?”</p>
<p>Did he? If Lunafreya could have messengers that were both animals and people, surely he’d be able to as well, and he could recall one person that he asked previously.</p>
<p>Ardyn was a person, and just like Carbuncle, he came to him in his dreams. Just like Gentiana, he was only able to be seen by Noctis. But Ardyn already denied any sort of status. He didn’t speak of what was to come, nor did he take Noctis anywhere in particular like Pryna supposedly did. And, unlike every messenger Noctis heard about, people didn’t speak of him, or know who he was.</p>
<p>So, Noctis shrugged, watching Lunafreya’s face fall, but recover as she added,</p>
<p>“Then, I’ll let you know if Gentiana tells me anything new!”</p>
<p>The conversation moved too fast for him to decide what to say. Lunafreya made talking about messengers so easy, and the piece of himself that wanted to be jealous was off, replaced with a new need to have it the same way. But it was strange. Weird to even consider where he wanted to start. Especially since no one had ever believed him before, even the ones who let him talk about Ardyn in the past. Who was to say Lunafreya was going to listen, that she wasn’t going to simply pretend that she understood.</p>
<p>Asking something vaguer could help. Something she wouldn’t be able to ignore. Ardyn wasn’t a messenger, but it was possible he could be something else. He reached for his tablet, typing a question her way.</p>
<p>
  <em>Are there just messagers</em>
</p>
<p>Lunafreya studied the question, lips pressing together, appearing thoughtful.</p>
<p>“Forgive me,” she said a moment later, “I don’t understand.”</p>
<p>“<em>When we sleep,</em>” he clarified.</p>
<p>“Have you seen anything else?”</p>
<p>That was a question easier to answer without words. He took the tablet back around, clicking out and brushing his finger through apps until he found his drawing pad. Most of what he drew wasn’t saved, but there were a few left over, including the drawing he did in his first week in Tenebrae.</p>
<p>Noctis braced himself as Lunafreya’s concentrated expression returned, recognizing the image of Ardyn under the blue sky that, at the time, wasn’t for her to see. Even having shared it of his own accord, anxiety was taking over, telling him that Lunafreya would be the same as everyone else. Just like Dad, his tutors, his therapist, Ignis and Gladio.</p>
<p>“I don’t know who this is, Noctis.”</p>
<p>Regret already tightening his movement, Noctis forced himself to go back to the notepad.</p>
<p>
  <em>My friend</em>
</p>
<p>He felt worse. Stupid for having ever shared again after so long.</p>
<p>“What’s their name?”</p>
<p>Why? Why was he hesitating after doing this so many times as a kid? After answering each dumb question before so often that he could do it without thinking.</p>
<p>“Are they back in Lucis?”</p>
<p>Stomach clenching, Noctis answered.</p>
<p>
  <em>No</em>
</p>
<p>“Where are they from then?”</p>
<p>
  <em>I don't know</em>
</p>
<p>Lunafreya’s mouth remained open, but no more words came, leaving Noctis surprising himself by wanting to fill in the silence.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hes like carbunkel</em>
</p>
<p>“How so?”</p>
<p>
  <em>hes from/</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>at night/</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>/</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>hes like gentyana</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>no one else sees him</em>
</p>
<p>“So,” Lunafreya said slowly, “You mean… he’s in your dreams?”</p>
<p>
  <em>yes</em>
</p>
<p>“And you’re the only one who sees him?” she sounded interested, surprisingly, words starting to come back to their usual pace. “What does he talk to you about?”</p>
<p>To answer that would take forever. Ardyn and he talked about anything and everything. About how Limbo looked that night, things Noctis saw during the day, the stories Ardyn had from when he was younger. Often they just played.</p>
<p>He shrugged, unable to summarize.</p>
<p>“Maybe he’s a messenger!” she exclaimed. “He sounds a bit like Gentiana. She doesn't appear to anyone, only those who require her words. Just me, really. I’m the only one who ever sees her, No- Prince Noctis. It’s been the same for many Oracles. Has he ever mentioned our futu- your future?”</p>
<p>Noctis felt himself glaze over, the excitement he was receiving from Lunafreya completely unlike any reaction that came before. Her interest was genuine, urging him to give more.</p>
<p>
  <em>No</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hes not a messager</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>he said so</em>
</p>
<p>“You asked?”</p>
<p>“<em>hes just my friend,</em>” Noctis typed, a sudden burst of defensiveness slamming his finger against the screen, halting Lunafreya before she could contest it. He turned it to face her, to be read, considered, judged.</p>
<p>“Alright.”</p>
<p>They both went quiet there, the acceptance leveling the air between them. It was a response Noctis felt he should be used to, an easy acknowledgement that anyone he talked to before would have given, but Lunafreya caught him off guard. Not just accepting, not just drilling questions into his head, but reacting to them, and positively at that.</p>
<p>“I’m happy you have someone to talk to. It’s probably lonely here, away from the rest of your friends,” the enthusiasm with which Lunafreya spoke faded, voice uncertain and face downcast. Her fingers linked together, worrying amongst themselves as she continued.</p>
<p>“It can be a bit boring here, at times. There aren’t many other kids, and Ravus is too old to want to play,” she laughed, not humorously, but low and shameful. “Gentiana is the same way. Her focus lies in the prophecy… and I do love the dogs, but I’m sure you've noticed they don’t talk back.”</p>
<p>Well, duh. They’re dogs.</p>
<p>But Lunafreya’s words did sink into him. It wasn’t as if he had many people to talk to either, or to do anything fun with. Either they didn’t have the time, or weren’t the people he wanted to play anyway. Gladio cared less and less about video games the older he got, and Ignis never liked gaming much to begin with. Dad didn’t exactly play with him so much as watch, helping him find the answers to puzzles online – which he could do by himself now.</p>
<p>They used to go outside more, but that too occurred less and less over time.</p>
<p>“<em>What stuff do you play,</em>” he asked.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“He was supposed to be with the princess, Your Majesty.”</p>
<p>That’s what was making the situation so frightening for Regis. He loved Noctis with all his heart, would be the first to defend him in any situation. But he couldn’t ignore how Noctis’ reserved nature extended to his fellow royalty, how easily Noctis could lose control if provoked, regardless of his personal effort. Sylva would make no incident of it, but Regis would feel the shame and remorse of knowing that his son had harmed her children.</p>
<p>“Tell me where they may have gone.”</p>
<p>That demand led Regis to the gardens, following a thorough search of the manor conducted by himself, a highly tense crownsguard who acted with her inevitable reprimand in mind, and several of Sylva’s own guards asking about, with no luck. Outdoors was the last place to be considered, with the rain that had been falling since the night before only ceasing an hour ago.</p>
<p>The grounds had very few pathways that weren’t dirt, and Regis could only imagine how easy it would be for Noctis’ chair to get stuck if he were to venture beyond the rooms on his own. The mud tried to stick his shoes where they landed as he trudged on, the difficulty of the walk only solidifying his concerns. The flowers were nothing short of soaked, sagging with the weight of water droplets, but the most important detail lay once again in the mud.</p>
<p>Regis hastened when he identified the thin line of wheels tracking in the ground, mixed with an assortment of other imprints; shoes and animals. He didn’t have to follow for long before the second sign of life, the barking of dogs, pierced his ears.</p>
<p>They made their appearance first, sprinting across the flowerbeds without a care for any of the rare sylleblossoms that were trampled in the process. He watched them, eyes widening at the sight of their destination.</p>
<p>Across the flowerbeds were Noctis and Lunafreya, both children filthy with dirt, hair mussed and both becoming more of a mess as the dogs reached them. One <em>jumped </em>on Noctis, causing Regis himself to stumble forward, instinct telling him to rush to his side and protect him.</p>
<p>Noctis didn’t resist or protest, however. Instead, he pulled a ball from the dog’s teeth, rearing his arm back and throwing it in the same direction from which they came.</p>
<p>Without the dog blocking his view, Regis could see his son smiling, rubbing some itch on his nose. His hand smeared dirt and slobber across his face in a sheen that caught the sun’s light, mixing with the tacky sweat that glued his hair to his head.</p>
<p>Lunafreya, equally disheveled Lunafreya, turned to him, saying something Regis couldn’t make out as Noctis laughed, holding up his tablet for her to see.</p>
<p>The moment wasn’t for him. Regis stayed rooted, and held Clarus back when he arrived on the scene as well, just as stunned as he was to see the previously absent comradery that the children seemed to develop under their noses.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you don’t want to intervene?” Clarus asked. The question was script, protocol. Regis could hear the hidden relief in his voice.</p>
<p>“No,” he obligated back, not taking his eyes off Noctis, who’s expression only seemed to grow in pleasure as the dogs returned again.</p>
<p>For the first time since the attack, and longer still before that, his son looked happy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To everyone who insisted there was no way I was writing fluff; you were wrong. I hearby dub this chapter: soft.</p>
<p>To everyone who's read and commented; thank you. Your words motivate me to push forward.</p>
<p>I hoped to get Tenebrae done a bit sooner, but there's still plenty to cover. Here's hoping the rest will be out in next month's chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“So then she says,” Noctis took a gulp of air, barely finding time to breath between his words, “I’m the future- I’m a true king. And it means I’m… um.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Go on.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m supposed to- she says it means I’m gonna make the light in the world,” he nodded to himself. Yes, that was the thing he was trying to explain ever since finding Ardyn that night. The incredible stories Luna was telling him – prophecies just like in ancient books. And he was part of one now!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis assumed that meant it was very important to share, so he began explaining the second he caught the sight of Ardyn’s red hair. He was lucky tonight. They weren’t at all far apart when he arrived.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s a prophur- it’s a prophy-“ finally, he got it. “Prophecy! So it must be really important. That's why I’m telling you!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn always said important stuff comes first.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That I can tell,” Ardyn looked him over, eyes settling on Noctis’ face, studying. “You, and the…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes broke away, scoffing and laughing in a strange combination. “You and the Fleuret girl. Remind me how she looks.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis brightened at his interest. That was the Ardyn he knew. Interested, happy, and a little weird.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She’s blonde, and has blue eyes and light skin,” Noctis recited. This was something Ardyn emphasized now, which made it easy to talk about. Descriptions. He never took much interest in them before, but lately asked about how people looked over and over. Noctis was happy to help.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Her hair is this long,” he marked it so on his neck, then moved his hand up above his head. “And she’s this tall. And she’s twelve, and that’s it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn smiled as he explained, but not how he did normally. In a quiet way, a pacifying way that Noctis hated to recognize. It was the kind of smile adults used when they didn’t want to talk about something, or hear him talk about it either.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a face Noctis was getting tired of seeing from Ardyn. The bits of who he was before only showing up between long periods of keeping to himself. Rarely did Ardyn want to play. These days, he refused to even touch him, preferring to spend most of his time closed off. As in actually curling up and not even looking at him. Treating Noctis like he had done something wrong, or hurt his feelings in some way.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn was too much of a grown up now, Noctis decided. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What else?” Ardyn asked, breaking up his thoughts. “Are there any other details she chose to divulge?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I uh, she didn't divulge any other stuff,” he confessed, using the same word Ardyn had carefully. “Can we play something? Please?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Already he felt stupid for asking. It wasn’t like Ardyn was going to say yes, for once. Noctis assumed such that night, bringing his carbuncle along to fiddle with after the inevitable rejection.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Suddenly angry, he kicked the dirt, flinging it into the air with bare feet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You never want to do anything!” Hands curled to form fists. Just when daytime was starting to get okay, all of his time with Ardyn seemed to fall apart. “All you ever do anymore is sit and meditate and talk about stupid stuff. I wanna play!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And I should like to see the Oracle,” Ardyn withdrew, because of course he did, stepping back and rolling his eyes. “But I’ve made no complaints. Nor have I stomped my foot like an unruly child.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, you did,” Noctis snarled, feeling his cheeks raise as his teeth were bared. “You complain all the time. You’re the unruly one.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was doing it again. That stupid way he shook his head and laughed ever so slightly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Another time, Star.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then I’m not drawing you any more pictures. Ever.” He added, demanding and argumentative. Serious as he could possibly make himself. “And I’m gonna play with Carbuncle instead.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then do it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis inhaled, furious as he kicked the dirt again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Play with me!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He stormed over, putting his hands out to shove Ardyn, to get him to do something other than just sit around for the entire night. But the older man was swifter, creating distance easily by side stepping him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I told you no, Star. Do you want to get hurt again?” his voice raised, at last betraying his own frustration.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Just don't do it this time,” Noctis came for him again, and again, was avoided by Ardyn’s quick feet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you think my control is so assured? That I’d have ever infected you with the starscourge if I knew how to prevent it?” Ardyn glowered at him. “This is for your sake, not my own.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis screamed, voice high and screechy and completely fed up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Just don’t do it,” feet stomped the ground as he repeated himself, grinding into the grass.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know how!” Ardyn snapped, stepping towards him with such hostility that Noctis was unable to hold his ground, jumping back on instinct. “And I’ve indulged enough of your ramblings of the Fleuret girl for one night. Spend the evening with Carbuncle, won’t you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis held still, not even breathing as he waited Ardyn out, frozen as he stepped back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn’s tense posture sagged, his face fell from its harsh expression after he was satisfied with the silence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s a good child. Go with Carbuncle.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He bolted.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“Heading out for the afternoon?”</p><p>Noctis nodded as he rolled past, flashing his tablet as he did so, but not staying still long enough for it to be read.</p><p>“Slow down, let me see where you’ll be,” Regis moved a few paces ahead, crowding the doorway to pause Noctis into holding the screen up properly.</p><p>
  <em>luna</em>
</p><p>“I thought you might be off to see her,” Regis chuckled, chest warming at how eager Noctis was to move along. “Just let me know where the two of you are going to be.”</p><p>His son’s fingers practically flew against the screen to clarify.</p><p>
  <em>Her room</em>
</p><p>On that, Regis opened the door for him, smiling as he did so.</p><p>“Have fun. I’ll see you at dinner.”</p><p>He waited for the sound of wheels rolling down the hall to fade before closing the door, the warmth in his chest remaining as Noctis disappeared from sight.</p><p>“Quite the turnaround.”</p><p>It pleased Regis to hear the optimism in his shield’s voice. Clarus stepped away from his station, facing Regis with an expression of satisfaction he hadn’t seen on his friend in weeks.</p><p>“She’s had a real impact on him. I haven’t seen Noctis take to anyone this well since-“</p><p>“Since Gladiolus when they were young,” Regis finished, unable to suppress the way his grin grew, “He’s doing it of his own accord now. Lunafreya typically comes by to pick him up.”</p><p>“It’ll be nice if the change carries home with him. He’s treated her better than most.”</p><p>The expression on Regis’ face flickered, the reminder of previous behavior souring an otherwise positive moment between him and Noctis. Lunafreya was an undeniable benefit to Noctis, and Regis himself was taken aback with how instantaneous the change was. The turn around had Noctis go from avoiding socializing altogether to actively seeking it, and clearly enjoying it at that. Whatever energy Noctis gained from that spread into the rest of his life, taking his exercises with more determination, and powering through lessons with minimal complaints reported.</p><p>Regis didn’t want to see it end.</p><p>“I suppose we’ll know how things go in a few days,” the doctors gave their seal of approval on Noctis to return home. No signs of scourge had come up since the initial healing, a full recovery. And the progress on his back was at a point where they were willing to discharge him to Lucis to continue his recovery. Both of them were due back, Regis especially, however much he admitted enjoying the new schedule that left him freer than his own country ever could.</p><p>And, as Clarus said, Noctis had to return to show that his progress could persist at home. For him to treat Gladiolus and Ignis, and, frankly, everyone else around him, with the same dignity he afforded Lunafreya.</p><p>That in mind, he couldn’t bear to break the news. Not when Noctis rushed through his dinner to get back to Lunafreya. Not when he checked on Noctis that evening, only to find his bed occupied by several extra bodies.</p><p>There was the princess of course, and then her dogs, though, humorously, not Noctis himself. He clung to his chair even as the strength began to return to his limbs. The two royals were clearly lost in a few books, with Noctis confident enough to lean to the side to pour over them with Lunafreya. Between them, the dogs were curled up in a mix of black and white, warming the bed where they lay.</p><p>Though he’d rather keep the scene between them, Noctis did need sleep. Or, he at least needed to get settled into the bed himself rather than let others occupy it.</p><p>Noctis noticed him peaking in, rolling back so he could face Regis and type out a message.</p><p>
  <em>Can luna sleep over</em>
</p><p>He looked hopeful as Regis read it over, mouth parted ever so slightly and leg shaking as he waited for an answer.</p><p>“We’ll be going home soon,” he reminded him, smoothing his son’s hair before stepping back to observe the group, smiling his approval. “Both of you enjoy yourselves these next few days.”</p><p>“Thank you, Majesty,” Lunafreya replied, formal as ever in his presence, but allowing a joy befitting of her age to grow on her face. Noctis too, however shyly, beamed, his own lips pressed thin to conceal his pleasure.</p><p>Not wanting to spoil the evening for them, Regis left the room promptly after helping Noctis transition to his bed, doing his best to not indulge the memory that sprouted as a result. It had been weeks since he was last given the opportunity to sit by Noctis’ bedside, his son finding sleep in minutes thanks to the injuries that sapped away his energy. It took that one simple piece of routine that kept the two of them bonded, telling stories over and over, hoping that in some way, they made up for the time he otherwise couldn't spare.</p><p>Jealous of a preteen. Regis laughed to himself, low and fully conscious of how ridiculous he was being. Some king he made.</p><p>He nearly walked away, leaving the door to the bedroom open just a crack, before his footsteps paused at the sound of a muffled voice, whisperings he recognized as coming from Lunafreya. He couldn't make out the entirety of what she was saying, but there were just enough phrases he knew to well too not pick up on. Phrases that made his stomach churn.</p><p>Phrases like “True King.”</p><p>For years, Regis had forbade the utterance of the prophecy to anyone outside of those in the know. Not a word to the public, and certainly not to Noctis, far too young back then to know his fate, and too young still today. Though he was aware of Sylva’s transparency with her own children, the thought that either of them might bring it up to Noctis while they stayed at Tenebrae never crossed his mind. Not when there were so many other immediate concerns at the forefront of his mind.</p><p>Now, with his efforts to shield Noctis dismantled, it was as if he’d been hit with his own ice spell, a tremor of cold horror dropping down his body. He turned back to the door, ready to barge back in and order Lunafreya to stop and leave, so he could try to find some way for Noctis to forget.</p><p>But that wasn’t an option. He couldn't upset Noctis by separating him from a friend, and for all the power the crystal granted him there was no way of reversing what he already heard. As Lunafreya continued to speak, it became apparent the topic was familiar to them both, a matter of seeking clarity as opposed to a new revelation.</p><p>Was this what they were bonding over the entire time?</p><p>Again, the urge to enter the room rose up. To pull Lunafreya away and assure Noctis he had nothing to worry about in his future.</p><p>Remove her, and break the fragile trust with his son all over again.</p><p>No, his anger would do no good being directed at a child. The conversation he needed to have lay with someone else.</p><p>The remainder of his evening was uneventful, falling into the routine of dressing down for the night, browsing a few books saved to his tablet that couldn’t hold his interest for longer than half an hour. It eventually found itself lazily placed on the other side of the bed far too large for just himself, so he could rest his eyes a bit. It was growing late in any case, the room now lit by the bedside lamp and a stream of white moonlight pouring in from the window to his right.</p><p>He might have fallen asleep just like that if it wasn’t for the tablet ping forcing him back to alertness. Blinking, he fumbled for it, screen lighting up as he lifted the screen to read.</p><p>
  <em>tgmnnht</em>
</p><p>Too fond to be upset, Regis forced himself to get up once more, loathing the walk back to Noctis’ room as his knee screamed for the brace he couldn’t bother to put back on. Things inside were about as expected – Noctis passed out in the bed, body not laying flat as he was instructed to by the physical therapist, but thankfully having the grace to fall asleep on his screen.</p><p>Umbra lifted his head, hovering to observe as he pulled the tablet out from under Noctis’ face, searching before spotting the charger cord lying on the floor.</p><p>His knee hated him enough just for climbing the stairs.</p><p>With a grunt, Regis bent down, winced, and tried not to think of plugging the damn thing in as an accomplishment.</p><p>It felt wrong to leave the princess of Tenebrae on the floor the way she was, but Noctis had the kindness to loan her a few unneeded pillows and a spare blanket. He debated ushering Umbra off the bed, but after a moment’s thought, allowed the dog to remain as he was.</p><p>Noctis whined, blinking blearily as Regis rearranged him to the sleeping position that would ease his back, but not quite waking. He swept his hair out of his son’s eyes, kissing his forehead before maneuvering between Pryna and Lunafreya, giving them all one last look before shutting out the light.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“But I just had it!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t worry yourself into a headache, Star. Your descriptions… are enough.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s stupid,” Noctis clenched and unclenched his recently emptied hands. “I wanted to show you the picture I took.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Your modern technologies have never worked before,” Ardyn leaned back against the wall of rock they were resting by, a rare sight in Limbo. “Honestly, I don't know why you troubled yourself.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dad said I’m going home soon. And I can’t find any pictures of Luna. Just paintings, and they’re too big,” Noctis pouted. The task of finding some way for Ardyn to see Luna was one he took enthusiastically at first, but as time wore on with his few attempts all failing to go anywhere, he felt defeated. And Ardyn? He just kept demanding and demanding, and not doing anything for him in return. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The older Noctis got the worse it felt. He recalled helping out in the past, where Ardyn would teach him how to make a tent all out of sticks and leaves if he got him a book. Showed him which plants could help with itching, or which ones were poisonous, if Noctis reminded him what year it was. Anything and everything Ardyn asked he would do, and in return, Ardyn always gave him something back. Playing for hours each night, telling him stories of the past, and laughing with Noctis when he found he couldn’t remember the details.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was no point in helping, though, if Ardyn wasn't going to be the same anymore.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don't know what else to do,” he added when Ardyn said nothing. “You have to help.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn, as was normal now, gave no response.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“Well, Regis, you’ve pulled me from the one break I have this morning, all but guaranteed I’ll miss my next appointment, both of these things with no warning. And, most impressively, successfully done so under the guise of a stroll. Now that we are out, perhaps you can disclose your intentions in disrupting my schedule?”</p><p>Even when walking through the rooftop gardens of Fenestala, Sylva managed to be the image of regal flare and refinement, regardless of the pick up of wind that morning. Her attire caught the air gracefully, billowing a bubble of space around her.</p><p>“A conversation between our children last night,” there was no point in keeping from cutting to the chase. As Sylva pointed out, and as was true for Regis as well, there were plenty of other matters to be attended to that day. Still, this one would take priority.</p><p>“And what conversation would it be that warrants our immediate discussion? I hope you realize my government requires more of my time than gossip amongst royalty.”</p><p>It would be a proper joke if the line weren’t delivered by Sylva.</p><p>“I hesitate to call our children discussing the prophecy mere gossip,” he returned, studying her unwavering composure. “Lunafreya seems to have divulged a considerable amount to Noctis.”</p><p>“Neither I nor the messengers that communed it felt a need to keep her in the dark.”</p><p>Regis’ jaw twitched.</p><p>“Noctis knew nothing of it until she began speaking with him,” he kept his voice calm, matching Sylva and keeping his eyes on the path ahead of them, concealing his deepening anger. “He’s a child Sylva. They both are. There’s no reason for them to learn so soon.”</p><p>“I don’t hide the truth from my children, Regis,” Sylva’s voice sharpened as they rounded a tree, catching the cool temperature that the rare glimmer of shade offered.</p><p>“They have a right to know what concerns them, and if it doesn’t come from me, it will certainly come from the Astrals,” She slowed to a stop, allowing them a moment’s reprieve from the sun. “Would you have Noctis grow up unprepared for what is to come?”</p><p>“I would not suspect them to be so cruel as to require him to start his path before he’s ten,” the two of them took the chance to face each other properly, the friendliness between them replaced by the veneers they crafted for their positions.</p><p>“He’s been through enough already,” Regis frowned. “Tell me what Lunafreya knows. I’ve no doubt she’s passing it all on along to him.”</p><p>After an agonizing pause, Sylva answered.</p><p>“She doesn’t know the sacrifice he’ll make,” she said, and Regis let out the breath he was holding. “I assume that is your primary concern.”</p><p>“Yes,” he inhaled, thankful to know that piece would remain a secret still. He shook his head as the relief washed over him, easing the anxieties of any other information Noctis may have uncovered in the past few weeks.</p><p>So long as he didn’t know the end to which his fate would take him, Regis would be able keep things relatively normal.</p><p>-</p><p>“And Noctis is okay with this?”</p><p>Both of them nodded in unison. Noctis from the bench seated on the side of the connecting chamber, and Luna from the recently freed up wheelchair.</p><p>“See how the walkway across from here is raised upward?” Luna pointed in the direction of the throne room. “You just need to stop the wheelchair if it doesn't go in the right direction, but Noctis and I think I can go all the way across the chamber, and into the next corridor.”</p><p>Ravus sighed. Clearly being loud on purpose, Luna thought.</p><p>“I’m going to do it either way,” she added.</p><p>A roll of the eyes, and Ravus got into position. Grinning at Noctis, who grinned right back, she hopped out of the chair and began pushing it.</p><p>“You’re going to get hurt,” his voice echoed as she ran up the walkway.</p><p>“Just catch me!”</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Carbuncle found him soon after sleeping, leaping down from a branch he was stretched out on to rub against Noctis’ legs. He laughed, bending down to scratch behind Carbuncle’s long ears, watching his back foot thump against the ground as Noctis found just the right spot.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The good thing about Limbo was that it was super easy to find a decent stick. In tonight’s case, Noctis simply broke a small bit of branch from the same tree Carbuncle dropped down from, explaining the rules he’d been trying to teach him for the past week.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Remember, you’re supposed to chase it and catch it, and then bring it back.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The messenger chirped, blinking once when the stick was thrown, and following it with his eyes. Noctis ran to retrieve it. After a few more half hearted attempts, Noctis gave up, trailing it in the dirt as he began to wander. The stick marked his path while Carbuncle followed, never one to leave Noctis alone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eventually, Noctis traded the ground for more branches and bushes, walking further on until the stick snapped against a large rock. That was okay though, because just up ahead he could see a clearing with a large lake. He flung the remaining part of the stick over his shoulder, and ran forward.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The feeling he got when seeing one was what Ardyn called “deja-vu.” It meant that he thought what he was looking at was something he’d seen before, but that it was actually different. That was normal for Limbo, changing scenery night after night. But each lake that manifested itself felt the same to him, even when Ardyn pointed out the change in color, or how the size was different. All of them were a large break up of all the plants he was used to, with a heavy fog that hid the sky, and kept him from seeing much more than a blur of what might be across from it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Help me find rocks,” he ordered Carbuncle.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Most of the rocks were collected on his own, with Carbuncle chirping out and running to the location of one for Noctis, never picking any up with his teeth. It was helpful enough that he was soon able to get a decent pile together.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn taught him, had been trying to teach him for years, that he needed a flat stone if he wanted it to skip. The flat ones handed to him never did what he wanted, however. Ardyn explained that he threw them the wrong way, and would then make his own rock skip several paces over the water.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In total, Noctis spent what he thought was probably an hour collecting rocks. He spent what he was sure was only three minutes trying to skip them, each unsuccessful attempt breaking up the typical stillness of Limbo. He managed to succeed twice, though they didn’t get farther than one smack against the water before sinking to the bottom.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn found him. While on one of his breaks from mindless time wasting, where Noctis lay in a soft patch of grass petting Carbuncle, the familiar shadow cast over him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?” he asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We should talk, Star.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis straightened himself from where he lay, frowning up at Ardyn. He looked tired, exhausted really, eyes droopy, and altogether unhappy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What day do you leave Tenebrae?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know,” he brought himself up, tucking his knees to his chest and hugging them. “Monday, I think.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And today is?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thursday.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn’s lips parted, tsking as he revealed clenched teeth. Air forced its way through, coming out as a hiss. Upset about what Noctis had said, though why he wasn’t sure.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What-“<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Noctis.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>More breath sucked in. Ardyn brought his hand up to smooth over his face, shielding it in a familiar motion before becoming very still. His eyes wandered, quickly fixating on some spot of fog across the lake.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His face remained in that hard position as he spoke.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I wish to see her. Lunafreya.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis felt his cheeks grow hot. “I told you, I can’t-“<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s a way it can be done.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The words silenced Noctis with their soft, sure delivery.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The day you-“ a pause, many of them, interwoven between his speech. “Do you recall when you were infected? I tried to help you… but the scourge worsened by my touch.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>The heat in his cheeks coiled lower, flipping Noctis’ stomach at the memory. The worst pain of his life, stopped only through Carbuncle and Ardyn, healing his body and relaxing his mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“After that, I,” another stop. Ardyn’s eyes shut and scrunched in his hesitation. “You wish for us to go back to as we were before, yes?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Like before he got hurt? As in playing games again? Getting to learn about plants with an enthusiastic Ardyn? Resting his head on Ardyn’s lap when he grew tired of running through Limbo?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’ve wanted us to be able to touch again, haven’t you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He gulped at that. Yes, that’s what he was thinking about most. That, and Ardyn being able to be fun again instead of mopey all the time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s… Noctis. Star, we can, but we must be very careful,” Ardyn faced him again, properly, getting down to eye level and resting an arm across his knee. “I gave you the starscourge last time. I’ll likely give it to you again.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But it was one time,” Noctis reminded him, stopping short when he was again cut off.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It wasn’t just the scourge that flowed between us, Star. It was… an exchange, of sorts. When I- you do trust me, don't you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis nodded.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Listen, good. Listen,” still crouching, Ardyn came closer, taking a deep breath. “When the scourge claimed your body, it came directly from within me. I’ve been infected, for all of my life. But it was only because I healed those who were previously afflicted. You remember the stories, do you not? That’s why I attempted to aid you, but it did the opposite.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On Ardyn went, transfixing Noctis to the spot with words he could barely wrap his head around. Although the subject was one that came between them plenty of times following the attack, this was the most Ardyn ever spoke of it, and the first time he ever seemed to truly want to say more. Though now, he was steering the direction differently, slipping on his own words at such a fast rate Noctis could hardly keep up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It let me see your life. All of it. You recall all your efforts for me, don’t you? The books, your tablets, all those things that you explained but couldn’t show. I saw them all. Your father. Your friends, your games, your outings… even the marilith itself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If I touch you again, there’s a risk that I’ll infect you once more. But, I may also be able to see what you’ve seen, just as I had before.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On that, Ardyn at last stopped speaking, watching Noctis intently as he waited for a response.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That doesn't make sense-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You trust me, don’t you Star?” Ardyn interrupted yet again, his continued force in the conversation making Noctis feel somewhat sick.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And the Oracle was able to vanish the scourge from you thereafter.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To avoid being talked over, Noctis decided to just nod, prompting Ardyn to stand and run a hand across his scalp. He walked to the side, glancing again at the lake and shaking his head before turning and pacing in the other direction.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re still with the Oracle…” he returned to Noctis, back on his knees once again. “Allow me to see her, Lunafreya. You’ll be helping me. And after that, the Oracle will heal you.”</em>
</p><p><em>Noctis had been trying. For weeks, he’d been trying to help, and telling Ardyn that things would be okay and that all he had to do was just not hurt him again. Now that Ardyn was presenting the opportunity, however, all his certainty vanished. The prospect of the scourge infecting him again becoming real in the mention of the queen </em>having<em> to heal him, a promise that it would happen in just the way Ardyn described.</em></p><p>
  <em>“The Oracle can fix it,” Ardyn repeated, nodding agreement to the terms he had set himself. “Just once, and in the morning, she’ll undo any harm that resulted.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can you do it without making the scourge come back?” it seemed foolish to ask, but he needed that reassurance, that possibility that nothing bad would happen at all.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To his credit, Ardyn thought about it for a bit, frowning. It wasn’t something Noctis could explain, but watching him, Ardyn’s age felt… shown. Maybe it was the wrinkles around his mouth, or the bags under his eyes. Maybe it was the thin lines on his forehead that Noctis noticed thanks to him being so close.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know,” he confessed. “But I promise I’ll do all within my means to keep you from coming to harm.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>With that, Ardyn reached out, and Noctis looked at his hand, inviting. His face was somber, but sincere. The one Noctis trusted his whole life. The one that always told him things would be okay when they felt like they never would be again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Carbuncle growled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And Noctis took it, squeezing tight.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a shriek, and a scream. One was his own and the other Ardyn’s but he couldn’t tell which with the way his body rattled upon making contact. The sensation was unfortunately familiar, that of being filled, of his insides coiling in upon themselves, wanting to burst but unable to escape the slithering of starscrouge returning to the body it had previously been banished from.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then, the only thing he could hold onto, the one thing that was solid, vanished. He collapsed to the ground, crying at the way his body tried to retreat in on itself, curling up into a tight ball and managing to find Ardyn with his eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man towered over him, even when hunched the way he was, grabbing the wrist of the hand that Noctis just held, looking just as pained as he was.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No no no.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No sooner than Noctis registered the tears that welled in Ardyn’s eyes did he recognize the color, sending him back years to the face he recalled only at his most frightened. The black streaks, the gleam Ardyn’s eyes weren’t supposed to have, all appearing from a nightmare Noctis never wanted to remember.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He screamed louder.</em>
</p><p>“Noctis!”</p><p>
  <em>It wasn’t real. Ardyn never-</em>
</p><p>“Noctis!”</p><p>
  <em>He never hurt him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He never-</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“Wake up, Noctis!”</p><p>Luna jolted back when Noctis at last opened his eyes, screams intensified now that he was awake and alert, matching the volume of Umbra’s barking.</p><p>It was the barking that woke Luna at first, from the floor she had once again fallen asleep on, and the pawing from Pryna that jostled her from her own rest. Noctis was only whimpering then, prompting her to stand and check on him, but once she adjusted to the moonlight shining down she saw it. Noctis’ pained expression, what little muscle he had strained tight, and the unmistakable ink crawling up his arm.</p><p>Starscouge. Born from nothing at all, it spread fast, the deep color washing out as it crawled over the rest of Noctis’ body.</p><p>“Pryna,” she turned to the dog at her feet. She couldn't afford to freeze this time. “Get His Majesty, hurry!”</p><p>The dog was on the move in an instant, and Luna’s focus back on Noctis. The sight of his tears, <em>black</em> tears, made her want to cry as well. Already she felt them stinging as she attempted to blink them back. As her vision focused, she saw Noctis watching her, mouth trembling as he tried to suppress another scream.</p><p>“I-it’s going to be okay,” the shaking in her voice took away any comfort she could give, but Luna pressed on. “Pryna will get help. We’ll get Mother, she’ll fix this.”</p><p>Noctis nodded at her, sniffling before clutching himself. Unsure what to do, Luna continued her stream of assurance while he continued to shake and sob, seemingly unaffected by anything she was saying.</p><p>Standing here alone, she was useless to Noctis once more. It was impossible not to remember the day he arrived, how she had to be taken away instead of doing anything to truly help.</p><p>She reached out to him, touching his elbow and prompting Noctis to face her once more. There was a beat between them, where the cries quieted to hitches of breath, making Luna aware of her own trembling fingertips against Noctis’ skin.</p><p>She found his hand, took it loosely, and relaxed when he squeezed, grip rigid, but slowing the shuddering between them.</p><p>Behind her, she heard the rumble of someone arriving, and she didn't have to turn to know it was Regis. She broke contact with Noctis, stepping aside as he looked over him.</p><p>“It’s starscourge,” she gasped, earning a far too intense look from Regis, a fear that didn’t belong on the face of a king. “I don’t know how, I woke up, and he’s hurt.”</p><p>Regis heaved Noctis from the bed, and Luna rushed to hold the door open for him.</p><p>“Get the Oracle,” she could hear the pain in his voice, the urgency with which he spoke, and nodded, rushing out to alert the guards.</p><p>This time, when they attempted to guide her away from the healing Noctis underwent, she jostled them loose, refusing to leave. Holding his hand before Regis arrived made her feel braver, the sweat of his palm still sticking her fingers together.</p><p>Minutes passed, and after each retreat the scourge made, it roared back to life, as if it were battling the Oracle herself. By the time she was able to successfully reverse the damage, the sun had begun to rise.</p><p>-</p><p>“You can’t say it’s not possible when there’s no other cause that could have allowed it to resurface,” Regis grit his teeth, trying to grind out the stiffness overtaking his jaw as he glared Sylva down.</p><p>“I’m not saying it’s impossible, only that there’s no other source outside the attack that the scourge could have come from,” there was weariness in Sylva’s voice, despite the stone exterior she put on as they stood outside the healing chambers. “I’ve never read any texts where the scourge becomes dormant in a person. Either it claims their life, or it is healed,” Sylva stopped as a servant approached them both, taking the coffee from the tray presented to them. “The best we can do for now is observe him for the next few weeks for any signs that it’s still present.”</p><p>Regis shook his head, unwilling to accept the null answer. “You told me you eliminated all of it after the first healing, but last night it came back multiple times even as you acted. Unless it was done improperly, there’s no reason he should be infected again.”</p><p>The servant brought the tray to him, and he waved them off. The drinks were set on a nearby table instead.</p><p>“Do you think I would purposefully neglect to clear him?” Sylva glared at him, insulted. “When our star’s longevity relies on his survival?”</p><p>“He is <em>not</em> a tool,” Personal space be damned. Regis stepped towards her, not bothering to hide the ice in his voice. “He is my son, and his survival should be for his sake. Not whatever divine purpose he’s been sentenced to.”</p><p>“That’s bold wording for a fate ordained by the Astrals,” she remained composed, completely undeterred by the way he occupied the space. “Trust in my connection with them, Regis. The Six won’t allow Noctis to die, and my line will support him in his journey, as I have done so ever since your arrival. In spite,” she added harshly, “of the priority I need to give my country’s borders. You’ve had all the allegiance Tenebrae can spare.”</p><p>Sylva was unblinking as she spoke, just as aware as Regis was that the stare down was an act of pettiness, one that confirmed no true strength to either argument.</p><p>“As I said, I do not know why the scourge reacted the way it did, but I fully intend to keep Noctis here for further analysis of his condition. <em>With</em> your permission,” she blew against the coffee in her hands, not yet drinking it, but softening.</p><p>“We’ve centuries of trust between our countries, Regis. Know that I’ll do all I can for him.”</p><p>“Then do it,” Regis stepped back, doing his best to match the calm Sylva was trying to present him. His rage would do little good here, as it had in all other areas of life. Shouting at Sylva wasn’t going to make Noctis any healthier, nor was it going to undo any of the words Lunafreya spoke to him in their time at Tenebrae so far.</p><p>The conversation was curt and led nowhere he didn’t expect. Regis ignored the drinks laid out for him as he made his exit, choosing, for once, to not return to Noctis immediately. He was too heavy of mind to spend the time with him.</p><p>Clarus, silent throughout the one sided shouting match, followed in tow from the post where he waited the argument out. He continued to keep to himself all the way back to the guest tower, even as the door was shut behind them, granting both men privacy.</p><p>From there, Regis began pacing, wandering the living space without aim, grimacing at the strain his knee was suffering from after running up and down stairs with Noctis in his arms, braceless. He didn’t regret it, and continued to move, refusing to allow the small price of suffering to stop him.</p><p>The only thing that could, and did, bring him to a halt, was Clarus, his shield blocking his path off with his own body. It was better that than to attempt to stop him with words, for there was little more that could be said between them.</p><p>Enough inner turmoil had poured over in the past month. The fear of Noctis’ death. How he hadn’t been fast enough to stop the marilith, to protect his own flesh and blood. How, if he had been slower still, Regis would not find himself in Tenebrae but in the tombs beneath Insomnia.</p><p>Wondering why the Astrals’ would damn their supposed “chosen” to a crippling injury on top of an undeserved death. Was it divine intervention that rescued him from succumbing to the scourge and a broken body?</p><p>Two things stood out in the past weeks. The doctor on the airship, saying how lucky Noctis was to be alive, how it was a miracle that he would be able to walk again at all. How, by all accounts, the rate at which his spine healed was unnatural. Even with the help of the crystal’s magic, it should have been the end.</p><p>Then there was the scourge itself, which progressed in a way incomprehensible to all experts, Sylva herself included. For how much that had manifested within twenty-four hours, again, Noctis should have been dead. Starscourge was a slow illness, appearing gradually in the form of thick, black skin lesions. For his veins to fill with it would require months of incubation, not hours.</p><p>The only question remaining now, Regis thought as Clarus’ arms held him in place, pulled him from being able to stress his body as much as his mind, was just how much more Noctis would have to endure before his “true” calling.</p><p>-</p><p>Thankfully, Ardyn was right.</p><p>Awful as the initial pain was, it wasn’t <em>too</em> terrible when Noctis compared it to the first time. Plus, there wasn’t as much scourge as before, he was pretty sure. And, because he was in Tenebrae, he was healed right after getting infected, all of the pain fading as if it had never been there at all. The commotion around him was uncomfortable, the way the doctors and the queen and Dad all hovered around him whenever he returned to wakefulness, but it was all over now. No more fearful faces when the ichor became visible.</p><p>That wouldn't happen again.</p><p>Dad and the queen watched him fall asleep after the healing. Ardyn looked relieved upon his return, hugging him without question. It hurt at first, but not to the point of waking up again. And once Noctis explained that the queen was still there, showing off how the ichor was vanishing from his arms, Ardyn asked to try a few more times.</p><p>Those also hurt, but less and less with each touch, until they were able to hold hands, with no pain or scourge between them at all, no giving of memories. Ardyn apologized over and over, seeing each instance of the process from both his and Noctis’ point of view.</p><p>At one point, Ardyn had to go, leaving Noctis and Carbuncle to sit and wait. Carbuncle… he wasn’t happy with any of it, having clawed Ardyn and even Noctis multiple times through the whole process. With Ardyn gone, the fox wouldn’t stop licking him, whining with concern until Noctis put him in his lap.</p><p>His body was too tired even in Limbo to walk around or do much of anything, so once Carbuncle settled down, Noctis closed his eyes and let himself drift.</p><p>When he finally woke again, it was just himself. He was in his own bedroom now, immediately missing the presence of Carbuncle, noticing the absence of Luna’s dogs, and feeling starved.</p><p>Just at a distance he could stumble to was his chair, inviting him to get up. But the scourge that entered him repeatedly last night made his body wobble as it moved, so he decided to stay in bed.</p><p>A growl came from his stomach.</p><p>Thankfully, his tablet was where it belonged, on his bedside, and fully charged. That… he remembered not putting it away last night, doing so on purpose. It must have fallen at some point.</p><p>Fingers shaking, Noctis texted the first person he could think of.</p><p>
  <em>Can you get food</em>
</p><p>Several minutes later, Luna replied.</p><p>
  <em>I’ll be there as soon as I can. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I asked for them to bring you something sweet. I hope you’re feeling better.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Do you want me to bring it over, or the servants? I should have asked you before. I can have Pryna and Umbra join you if you want company.</em>
</p><p>There were way, way too many questions for Noctis to answer.</p><p>
  <em>Yes come over and the dogs</em>
</p><p>Good enough.</p><p>While waiting for Luna to bring food, Noctis searched for a video to watch, eventually settling on a streamer he’d seen before. They played the same games he did, and knew a bunch of secret items and places in them. Not entertaining enough to take his mind off his hunger, but enough to hold him over until the door banged open.</p><p>Umbra met him first, front paws propping onto the bed to see Noctis better, whining and sniffing until he determined things were okay once more.</p><p>Luna was more careful, balancing a tray of tarts that she placed on the table by the side of the door.</p><p>“Do you need any help getting up?” she watched him reach out, placing a tart on one of the small plates they came with. “Don’t move, I can bring them to you.”</p><p>He nodded, stomach roaring back to life upon the sight of food. The moment the dish was in arms reach he snatched it, biting into the pastry with no regard for the sheets catching crumbs for him.</p><p>Umbra appreciated that.</p><p>The flavor burst in his mouth, tangy berries flavored sweetly, and almost flowery, by the rest of the filling. In no time he devoured it, pointing for Luna to bring another.</p><p>After consideration, she chose to take the tray up again, setting it on the bed and daintily taking one for herself. Noctis in the meantime slowed the consumption of his second tart, swallowing too large of a piece for it to go down properly, making himself grimace as his throat fought it down.</p><p>Luna took a small bite, just the crust, and set hers down on her plate.</p><p>“Does it still hurt?”</p><p>He shook his head.</p><p>“That’s good, I was worried,” her fingers stitched together, eyes on her plate. “I couldn’t sleep.”</p><p>Noctis shrugged, hands too full to type properly, permitting her to continue.</p><p>“Everyone was scared. They don’t understand how you could have gotten starscourge again. Mother said she’d never seen it happen before, and I’ve never read any case of scourge return either.</p><p>“Sorry,” she looked pale as she attempted to smile at him. ”That’s rather morbid, isn’t it?”</p><p>Noctis stuffed the rest of the tart into his mouth, freeing his hands to reply.</p><p>
  <em>Im fne</em>
</p><p>Luna bit her lip at the text, and for a moment Noctis felt worried, but she didn't question it, changing the subject instead.</p><p>“Do you know what happened?”</p><p>Every defense Noctis had rose up – the urge to glare, to push Luna away or throw the stupid tray off the bed. Because it <em>wasn’t</em> her business what happened and she wouldn’t even believe him anyway.</p><p>Except… Luna knew about Ardyn now. Not only that, but she <em>did </em>believe him and seemed to like hearing Noctis talk about him. Whenever he shared she had something to say in response, never simply nodding along the way others would.</p><p>Noctis never told her about Ardyn giving him scourge the first time. At first, it was too exciting to share all of the cool things about Ardyn. The fun they would have and what carbuncles were actually like.</p><p>Now faced with bringing up something Ardyn did that… wasn’t good, Noctis drew back to the silence he always relied on.</p><p>If she knew Ardyn hurt him, even on accident, would she change her mind? Reject him and tell Noctis it was wrong to talk to him or about him? Even though she was allowed to talk about Gentiana whenever she wanted, to anyone she wanted?</p><p>
  <em>I don't know</em>
</p><p>“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” she rolled her shoulders, trying to stay upbeat. “I’m sure Mother will have an answer soon. And with the prophecy saying you’ll bring light, I’m even more certain that the Six will never allow you to fall to harm.”</p><p>Noctis’ own shoulders sagged, tightness he didn't know was there until now leaving him. He reached for a third tart, biting into the sweet filling and flakey crust. It tasted richer now, maybe because he was starting to feel full, but he chewed, and swallowed.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“Ardyn?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re back,” Ardyn rushed to him the instant he noticed Noctis’ arrival, the gesture making Noctis feel happier than he had in weeks. It had been so long since Ardyn last came close to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How do you fare?” his hand hovered, almost ready to pet Noctis’ hair, stopping short out of habit. “Any signs of the scourge?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nope! It’s gone,” Noctis shook his head as he spoke, rolling his sleeve to show off clear skin. “The Oracle took care of all of it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good,” the relief could be heard in Ardyn’s sigh as he brushed Noctis hair back and patted his shoulders, smiling at the easy contact. “It’s progress. I was able to see her. Lunafreya, and the Oracle both.” He wet his lips, grin spreading across his face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you, Noctis.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So we can go back to normal now?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hm, that we can try. You’re not leaving any time soon, are you?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis giggled. “Nope.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Tenebrae, I mean.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Uh-uh. Dad says the queen wants me to stay a bit longer. Till she knows I’m okay.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good,” Ardyn said again, letting out a breath of fresh air. “She…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whatever he thought of the queen, he decided he wasn’t willing to discuss. It confused Noctis, how he could be so fixated on them for weeks, only to stop short once finally being able to see them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No matter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can we play no-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re right. Luna is a most verbose companion,” when Noctis stared at him, he added, “She talks quite a lot.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis’ mouth spread wide as he laughed. “I told you so! She’s cool though. She doesn’t- she likes hearing about you. Did you see that part?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I did,” Ardyn confirmed, matching his expression.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On that, Noctis felt as if a light went off in his head. When they touched Ardyn said that he was able to see all of his memories. That meant seeing Luna, yes, but it also meant…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Did you see the dogs?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Did you see Dad?<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I did.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So,” Noctis came forward, ignoring the grunt from Ardyn as he climbed onto his knees, bracing himself by placing his hands on Ardyn’s shoulders. “Did you see everything I’ve ever saw?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Seen,” Ardyn corrected, giving a thoughtful pause. “I suppose I did.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Even when I was little?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes,” the smirk Ardyn gave was inches from his face. “I even saw myself.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?” he shook Ardyn’s shoulders, disbelieving, but giggling at the idea.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I saw myself through you, I should say. How small you were… it put it into perspective.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wait, wait what else? Did you see Ignis? And Gladio and Clarus and my tutors?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I-“<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Did you see the citadel?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Inside and out, Star I-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Did you see any of the times I went camping?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Star, when I say everyt-“<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What, what about… um.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Everything Star,” the hands grabbing Noctis’ waist made him squirm, but served their purpose in slowing him down. “Every second of it. All your friends and every person and place, and your games. I saw it all.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was difficult to lean in while held in place, but Noctis was able to wiggle his way into hugging Ardyn. He felt himself being released, but it didn’t even matter. Ardyn was okay with hugging again. That meant he wouldn’t pull away if Noctis tried to take his hand to lead him somewhere, wouldn’t shout if Noctis asked to touch his hair.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It had been far too long.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So,” the hug did have to end. Ardyn set him down. “We’ve got the entire evening. How would you like to spend it?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis could think of a million things. But first, one more question. An important one. He was sure Ardyn wouldn't mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Did,” he picked at his fingers a bit. “Did you see me and Luna talking earlier?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn thought for a moment. “When, the night before?”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, today. After, um, you did the thing. The scourge stuff.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We haven’t made any exchange since then, Star.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sorry,” he hadn’t thought of that, but it was a good point. Ardyn wouldn’t be able to see something until they touched again, in the way that allowed him to see everything, that is. He’d have to explain like usual.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Luna and me were talking and she was asking about how I got scourge again. And it was from you, right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A long sigh came out, Ardyn’s chest rising and falling as his eyes darted away, and an even longer silence after that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Technically.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, how do I tell her about, um,” he thought, feeling uncomfortable with how Ardyn was taking his time in answering. “Do you think I should tell her what we did? Do you think she’d still like you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In an instant, the slump Ardyn was lost in, that Noctis thought had finally passed, returned. He seemed to go grey at the line of questions, a lost, defeated look in his eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then, it vanished, and Ardyn smiled at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Aren’t you tired of asking questions? I thought we might at last partake in a bit of fun tonight.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But what about-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If you wish to spend the entire night talking, however, I won’t force you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis shoved him, playfully, and laughed when Ardyn growled at him, jumping out of the way as the older man took a teasing lurch forward.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was willing to forget if it meant they were finally, finally going to be like before.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Noctis realized, later the next day, that Ardyn never answered the question of how to tell Luna where the scourge was from. She didn’t ask about it a second time, but the thought occurred to him all the same, as they wrote back and forth to each other in a notebook she brought out when his tablet had to charge. He never noticed how shaky his own handwriting was until seeing Luna’s beneath it, fitting the lines almost perfectly in loopy cursive – that Noctis had to ask for her to change to regular writing so he could read it.</p><p>The notebook was an idea Luna came up with. A way for them to talk here and there during class hours, when breaks were allowed. Noctis wondered initially why they couldn’t just text, but then, text messages weren’t sent by a <em>dog</em>, and getting to pet Umbra a few times during the day made schoolwork far more bearable.</p><p>He forgot to ask Ardyn at all the next time, and had to wait another night after because he was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>Once they did talk about it though, Ardyn made a lot of sense.</p><p>
  <em>“Well, it’s hard to say how she’d react. You really haven’t known her all that long, have you?”</em>
</p><p>Which, after all, was true. He had Ardyn with him forever, knew what he was like, what he enjoyed, and how much they could count on each other for things. Even if the past month had been strange and difficult.</p><p>
  <em>“I’d hate for her to turn on you, should she draw her own conclusions about my intentions.”</em>
</p><p>There was no way Noctis was going to risk losing the friendship. So for now, it worked best for them to use the power sparingly.</p><p>
  <em>“What’s sparingly?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It means only for something very important. No uneventful days, none of the mundane. We’ll only do it if it’s imperative that I see for myself what you’ve seen.”</em>
</p><p>After Ardyn taught him what ‘imperative’ was, they went over how to use the power without Noctis getting hurt. All the tries they made that first night helped a lot, to the point that Noctis only felt a stab of pain by the end of it. Just a sharp squirm up his arm that settled into his limbs, and vanished without a trace.</p><p>-</p><p>Sylva let them go a few weeks later.</p><p>“You must alert me if any symptoms return,” she insisted as she walked Regis down the entrance hall, maintaining a slow stride. “There will always be a place ready for him here, should it be required.”</p><p>“His home is Insomnia,” Gods, Regis didn’t want to consider returning with cause. “I won’t have him uprooted any longer than he has to be.”</p><p>“A valid sentiment. Just know that Tenebrae’s hospitality is at your disposal.”</p><p>Regis nodded, giving another word of thanks before they came out front, where the van that would carry them through the first leg of the trek home was waiting. The ride wouldn’t last as long as the one to the train they would be departing on, and that too was a small amount of travel in comparison to the hours they would take in the air. A long day of loading and unloading themselves that would leave both him and Noctis jetlagged and in need of adjusting to Insomnia’s time zone. The difference would have them “sleeping in” later once home, and Regis hoped the feeling would last a few days.</p><p>Their bags, originally packed in haste when having to make their initial journey, were now in the back of the van, carefully handled and stored away. It was just a matter of situating Noctis now. His son, bless him, woke up on time that morning with no fuss, pushing himself to the point that Regis had to slow him down as he got dressed.</p><p>He couldn’t ignore the guilt he felt as Noctis steered his way down the halls, a small distance behind him and Sylva. Lunafreya was the reason he woke early, wanting to squeeze in the last of their time together before taking off, and she was with him now, walking alongside his chair with a book in hand. Between both duos was Sylva’s son, Ravus, a respectable distance behind the queen. He kept a quiet manner as the entourage made their way through Fenestala, and as far as Regis was concerned, succeeded in the maturity he was trying to display.</p><p>The time here was good for Noctis, better than Regis could have ever anticipated. He truly seemed to enjoy being around Lunafreya, having someone to befriend and to actively seek the company of on his own. And all, thankfully, without ever fighting the princess.</p><p>Thus, he felt like the villain when the time came to intrude upon them, to let Noctis know that the van was waiting for them outside. No amount of reminding himself that this was just how it had to be could have him accept the way Noctis’ face fell, how he didn’t move to go, and how Lunafreya quietly volunteered herself to guide Noctis along to the entrance hall.</p><p>“<em>Can we come back?</em>” Noctis asked when they met with Sylva, rolling Regis’ stomach over and tightening his throat as he promised his son that they would make plans to visit. Even though it would likely be months or up to a year for something to be scheduled.</p><p>Even if Regis himself couldn't attend.</p><p>“It’s time,” he said softly, interrupting the conversation shared between the two children, a mix of clacking keys and the scratch of pen against paper. “Are you ready?”</p><p>Of course he wasn’t, but Noctis nodded along passively, personally moving himself to meet the attendants that would strap his chair down in the van as he stole a glance back at Lunafreya.</p><p>Clarus took Noctis from the chair at the steps to bring him down, the chair lifted by attendants waiting to step in. Regis followed by his side, making sure that he could be available should anyone stumble along the way, though without need. In no time, Noctis was loaded into the backseat. The van was designed to be accessible, with a ramp for the chair to roll up and an open space where it could be held in place while the vehicle was in motion.</p><p>Regis joined him after, having to shuffle himself to the seat behind Noctis. He didn't have a chance to buckle himself in before pausing, seeing a rush of white climb in after him. Lunafreya, face rapidly turning red for having run in seemingly without cause.</p><p>“Your Majesty,” she acknowledged, apologetic. She turned to his son next.</p><p>“Noctis, this is for you.”</p><p>With that, she held out the notebook she’d been carrying. At the angle, Regis was unable to see his response, only the hands that reached out to take it, his face covered by hair that grew long over their stay. It’d have to be cut once they were home.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>It was small, so small, and uncomfortably rough on the ears, but enough for Regis to become rooted in his seat, body frozen as the single word echoed between his ears.</p><p>It was older than what he was used to. Soft, yet audible, coming out so naturally, as if it were no effort at all to put rarely used vocal cords to task.</p><p>His son’s voice.</p><p>Fortunately, Regis learned to control his own impulses from a young age. However much he wanted, he wouldn't come back around to face Noctis, to ask him to repeat himself or to say more, say anything more. He’d accept the word – why couldn’t it be more than one word? And let it rest, heard, but not spotlighted.</p><p>The door was shut after that, Clarus taking the seat next to him. From the back he could see Noctis hunching over, and with the tablet resting in the pouch on the chair’s back, he could safely assume it was the notebook itself that occupied Noctis’ attention. A private thing, one Regis wouldn’t lean forward to peer at, wouldn’t make Noctis feel as if he needed to shield it from view.</p><p>Although wanting to sit next to Noctis initially, Regis was glad for the advantage of the arrangements now, the one thing that wouldn’t betray the tremor of muscle around his eyes, to his son, at least. He could feel Clarus looking at him, having overheard as well and chosen similarly to take the silent approach.</p><p>The van started forward, smooth momentum without so much as a minor jolt – necessary while Noctis was traveling. Down through winding, narrow mountain roads. Paced slowly to accommodate the size of the path and the trepidation it required.</p><p>Away from Tenebrae, from daemons and scourge, and from never ending silence.</p><p>Back to where all their problems originated, and, hopefully, toward something better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"Yeah, I should be able to do Tenebrae in a chapter."</p><p>Well, here we are 25k later, proving me the fool.</p><p>There are many favorite moments in this story for me, but Noctis calling Ardyn "unruly" is possibly in my top ten.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His room didn’t feel like his room.</p><p>It was his, of course. From the bed tucked into the corner across from the door leading to Dad’s room, to the large window casting what little remaining sunlight it could catch across the floor. He never noticed how dark it was before, but after all his time in Tenebrae, the lack of sun the room received was evident. Everything he left behind was where it belonged, cleaned in his absence as it had always been. But it was still not quite right for some reason.</p><p>A more obvious difference was found in the bathroom, which Noctis wheeled to the moment they made it into the apartment. Fortunately, it was large enough for his chair to fit, but it was there that he discovered the metal bars that were installed while they were gone.</p><p>He realized seconds later that they were for his benefit.</p><p>It took a while of sitting at the entrance of the bedroom to figure out the reason his bed no longer looked as inviting as it had in the past, was because of how empty it was. No dogs. No Luna. Just his blanket and pillows, perfectly placed and being smoothed of any wrinkles by one among the small team of servants puttering around the space. They made quick work of unpacking all the things that came to Tenebrae with him, finishing in just a few minutes.</p><p>With how late it was, he should probably go to bed, and let Ardyn know he got home okay. Rolling up to it, however, dropped the thought from his mind as he was at last hit with the source of the strangeness in the room. It was- <em>he</em> was too low. The chair was making him smaller and everything in the room higher by comparison.</p><p>He continued wheeling around, treading marks into the carpet, up to the window where he now had to stretch his back to peak down at the city below.</p><p>Discomforted, he turned to his shelf, which had a collection of books he hadn’t read since… even before the marilith. Maybe Luna’s notebook could go there. And by it was his toy box, something else he rarely dug into.</p><p>Didn’t he have-</p><p>“We should try to get to bed.”</p><p>He’d have to look another time.</p><p>“Even if we feel awake still, it’s past our bedtimes. We wouldn’t want to ruin our sleep,” a loud yawn interrupted him, “anymore than we already have.”</p><p>Well, he did still have to tell Ardyn he was home.</p><p>Dad stood close while he pulled himself into bed, bringing the blanket and sheets back for him and checking to make sure he was laying flat in that slow, careful way he had done ever since the accident. It wouldn’t be a nightly occurrence anymore, Noctis assumed. Dad only had the time for it in Tenebrae because his schedule was different there.</p><p>Still, Dad locked his chair for him, before taking his own that sat by the bedside for as long as Noctis could remember.</p><p>“Would you like a story?”</p><p>Yes, he would.</p><p>-</p><p>On the airship, Dad told him he was proud of how well he and Luna got along. He called him a young man. Noctis didn’t pay attention to most of it, anxious for the duration of the journey home.</p><p>He didn't mean to say anything at all. It just… came out. And Luna heard him, but so did Dad, and Clarus, and the word made him queasy, clinging to his throat, churning his stomach along with the motion of each vehicle they boarded.</p><p>When the train lurched, he nearly threw up, having to swallow sour bile down. No one was saying anything to him. Nothing, aside from a little direction of where to go as they transitioned from car to train to ship.</p><p>This was what people wanted from him, wasn’t it? So he shouldn't feel bad, or like he did something wrong. Noctis knew that. But the thought didn’t make him less nauseous. It didn’t stop his head from aching or his stomach from or ultimately rejecting his breakfast when the train started.</p><p>Dad never brought it up though. Noctis braced himself for an anger that never came when he told him how he was proud, only letting his body relax when Dad ended his speeches to talk with Clarus instead.</p><p>-</p><p>“Welcome back, Your Highness.”</p><p>It took a second to take Ignis in, even though Noctis knew he would see him that morning. It was disappointing to know that he had to be back in tutoring the day after they got home, but he was happy about getting to start late. Sleeping in felt great.</p><p>He nodded at Ignis’ greeting, prompting more talk.</p><p>“Are you,” Perfect. Ignis was already back to staring, this time at his chair rather than Noctis himself. “feeling better?”</p><p>Another nod.</p><p>“That’s good,” Ignis blinked, and tore his eyes from the wheels to Noctis’ face. “It’s good to see you’re okay.”</p><p>Beyond those first few comments Ignis added nothing, letting the day’s lessons begin. They weren’t all that difficult, actually. Noctis never realized how nice his tutor at home was until now. Whereas the one in Tenebrae expected hours of work to be completed with very few breaks, this one gave far less for him to do, saying he could finish his assignments as homework.</p><p>During his breaks though, Noctis could tell that Ignis had changed since he last saw him. He had always been quiet, for as long as Noctis could remember, but usually, Ignis would approach him, try to talk to him about video games, or classwork. Today, instead, he excused himself to the bathroom, and sat right back down at his desk when he returned.</p><p>Gladio visited not long after.</p><p>Even though he was standing thanks to his new walker that day, Gladio towered over him, having grown much, much taller since they last saw each other. Noctis had tilt his head up to face him.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>He was only two years older. How could he get that big so quickly?</p><p>“Dad said you couldn’t walk,” confusion tinted his voice as he looked at the bars of the walker.</p><p>Noctis shrugged.</p><p>“So, does that help?” Gladio stuffed his hands into his hoodie, thumbs hanging out and flexing while Noctis nodded confirmation.</p><p>“That’s good… do you want to play video games? Or go outside?”</p><p>Video games were the best choice. Going outside for Gladio meant kicking a ball around, which he obviously wouldn’t be able to do considering he was still getting used to walking again.</p><p>He pointed to the couch, and a few minutes later, the only words between them were the occasional groan or swear at losing.</p><p>-</p><p>Umbra vanished for three weeks.</p><p>Luna marked the time of his arrival in her planner, fortunately by her side when he came in. It was afternoon, and she still had half her lessons to continue before she’d be leaving her desk.</p><p>A few weeks after Noctis returned to Lucis she chose to send Umbra out, figuring that it would be enough time since they had last spoken to generate some conversation. She was disappointed to realize they wouldn’t be able to text. Ravus was too eager to share his knowledge on country lines and how they affected access – followed by his far too detailed opinion on why he disliked them.</p><p>Not that she disagreed with him, given the circumstances, but there was no reason they had to talk about it for so long.</p><p>A bark reminded her it was time for “payment.” Luna pulled the bag slung on the back of her chair around to unzip the front pouch, where she kept a small baggy of treats in case either dog looked hungry. Her hand was slobbered over in seconds, the treats devoured, and the notebook presented proudly when Umbra sat up, giving access to the strap on his chest.</p><p>She flipped through the first few pages, all used while Noctis was staying at Fenestala, until finding the most recently used one, smiling upon seeing a new, short message.</p><p>
  <em>Hi Luna. Umbra is here like you said he’d be.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Its boring here. But I can play my game again. You should get a system.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How long did it take Umbra to get from here to you? Today is Tuesday.</em>
</p><p>And now it was Friday, though Luna suspected the day Noctis was referring to was from last week.</p><p>She dumped the rest of the treats onto the floor, earning an elated yip from Umbra, who clawed them close and began to loudly chomp down on them. He deserved the reward for getting home so quickly, and for the next message, which she intended to start on right away.</p><p>Her dominant hand found a pen while the other reached to rub his ears. The crunching reminded her she had her own lunch to open before resuming her afternoon, but the need to write back was too immediate.</p><p>The pen dotted the paper, but no words came, her mind full with possible starting points. How long Umbra took was probably the best place to begin. Then, the matter of gaming. A few of the apps on Noctis’ tablet entertained her, but she just couldn’t get into them the way he could. What was the most polite way to say she wasn’t interested in getting a system?</p><p>Umbra snorted, licking up the crumbs on the floor and replacing them with shiny streaks of slobber.</p><p>There were her own updates to give as well, though admittedly she had little to report. She thought it might be worth doing something a little extra with the book, maybe fitting photos in, to make her replies interesting.</p><p>A shadow appeared over the paper, not a gradual fade but an immediate darkness, causing Luna to spring from her seat.</p><p>“Gentiana,” how she was able to appear right in front of Luna’s eyes still remained a mystery to her. “I’ve been wanting to see you. I met with Noctis. He’s just written to me.”</p><p>She grabbed the book, lifting it a few inches for Gentiana to see, but thought better of it. Words between friends were a private thing, after all.</p><p>“The Chosen’s disposition has improved with the intervention of the girl,” Gentiana’s hands laid on her front, loosely touching each other as she stood, immaculate in the light. “It gladdens the Messenger to see her successful.”</p><p>“I’m happy too. We’re friends now.” Astrals, it felt good to say it out loud. After how poorly things had gone initially, Luna felt certain she wasn’t fit as an oracle, even more so with Gentiana absent throughout the duration of Noctis’ stay. Many nights before they found common ground, she stayed up, waiting to see if she’d appear. Praying for wisdom that Luna could use to bridge her and Noctis together.</p><p>Although it felt like abandonment at the time, Luna concluded now that Gentiana gave her a test. To show she was capable of aiding the True King without interference from the gods. That she would use their words as a guide, rather than a crutch.</p><p>“The Messenger wonders about her impression of the Chosen.”</p><p>“He’s,” Luna laughed, a touch nervous at admitting any difficulty that Noctis gave her. A confident response would be best. “Fun. And very interested in learning about our roles,” she added, that ought to be emphasized. “He didn’t know anything of it when I brought the prophecy up, but he understood once I explained. He’ll be a good king.”</p><p>Gentiana’s full lips spread, calming as she considered Luna’s words. She blinked slowly, thoughtfully.</p><p>“He is fun?”</p><p>The question gave her pause. Of all the things Luna expected would require elaboration, Noctis being fun was certainly at the bottom of her list.</p><p>“Well, yes. He’s much more energetic than I. It was a nice change of pace,” Luna couldn’t contain her smile as she recalled riding the wheelchair down corridors, as undignified as it was. “You’d find our behavior childish.”</p><p>“Should the Chosen act as a man instead?”</p><p>“I’ll do my best to help him become what you need,” she bowed her head, apologetic. “He’s quiet, and younger than I, but I’m certain-“</p><p>“The girl worries he may not earn the favor of the Six.”</p><p>So easily was Gentiana able to translate her attempts to prove her dedication into what they truly were. Luna flushed red, feeling the blush run along her face and arms, and silenced herself, so as to allow Gentiana to speak.</p><p>“But she need not concern herself so soon. There is time still before the events they will serve as catalysts in come to pass, and the sacrifices to be made will hold until both are ready to receive them.”</p><p>A sigh of relief escaped Luna. Ready as she was to undertake whatever tasks the Astral’s put before her, she couldn’t help but worry about being prepared in time for them. She was certain she could serve with Noctis, but had a feeling helping him would be long work. There was no way he’d be ready to make any sort of-</p><p>“Sacrifice? What manner of sacrifice?”</p><p>The relaxed composure of Gentiana faltered, making Luna’s arms pimple with a rush of fear. The cool smile on Gentiana’s face, which she’d never seen change in all her time of knowing her, iced over into something less pleased and far more false.</p><p>“The closeness nurtured between the Oracle and King will bring them solace before their losses are clear,” there was no recovery to her voice, no sign that the question was trouble to answer other than the inhuman smile. “Though the path to light will bear consequences, remain focused on the connection between you. For it is to be your comfort in the events yet to unfold.”</p><p>“I will,” Luna’s response was automatic, enough to restore a glimmer of softness to the messenger’s eyes, before she vanished.</p><p>She forgot the nature of the being she spoke with.</p><p>“Umbra,” she called.</p><p>The dog smoothed himself against her leg, allowing her to place a hand on his head. She sank back into her chair, petting him as he pushed his face into her lap, whining.</p><p>Loss. Consequence. Sacrifice. Each word swirled in her mind, picking up all she cared for and throwing it into a whirlwind of speculation.</p><p>There was plenty she couldn’t bare to lose. Her mother, Ravus. Noctis, now that they were friends. Umbra and Pryna. The gardens on the roof.</p><p>No, she could give the gardens up willingly, if it protected everyone else, although she doubted they were the kind of thing the Astrals would exchange for the light of the world. Worse images than dying flowers came to her mind, everyone she loved at her feet. Lives lost that she didn’t want to have on her hands.</p><p>She looked down at the notebook, wondering what Noctis would give up for their fate. Certainly not King Regis… but her mind was as blank as the space on the page, still waiting to be filled.</p><p>She picked up the pen again, recalling that she’d now need to visit the spiritualists to recount what transpired between her and Gentiana, but couldn’t bring herself to either task. The mention of sacrifice alone would lead to a line of questioning that was sure to take an hour. Yet, the prospect of telling Noctis was no easier to consider. He was years younger than her, not even ten.</p><p>“Noctis,” she whispered aloud the words as she began, “Umbra hasn’t been here in about three weeks, so I think it took him ten days or so to reach you…”</p><p>-</p><p>After what felt like an eternity of being bound to his chair, Noctis finally transitioned to the walker. Far less bulky and easier to handle, he could navigate down the halls from the apartment to the study where he and Ignis continued tutoring. Often, depending on how much moving he did, the afternoons would slow him into a near-nightly state of exhaustion.</p><p>But he could walk. Bend. Turn. Even run to an extent, hobbling as his muscles stretched and relearned motions that once were effortless, slowly becoming what they were before.</p><p>When he returned home, Noctis’ own tutors said they were impressed with him, how much he learned while in Tenebrae, and how they could advance his education ahead of schedule. Finally, he could prove he was just as smart as Ignis!</p><p>Now that too had returned to normal, because Ignis had also been put in new classes. Two grades above Noctis – caught up with Gladio – and constantly receiving praise and being told he could do more. Noctis’ own work, meanwhile, gradually became hard again, and his usual pace resumed.</p><p>At least Ignis didn’t rub it in, so doing other things together, like playing, was fine. It was up to Noctis to decide what they should do, as usual, and he wound up gravitating to the rarely touched toy box in the bedroom.</p><p>There were a slew of soldiers inside. Glaives and crownsguards and even Niflheimr troops, old fashioned ones from forever ago. Noctis piled them up for Ignis to help sort before reaching back into the box to find an airship he knew was buried inside. Ignis could use it since he had less of the figures.</p><p>As he continued to contort his arm, he came across a toy he hadn’t touched in a long time, longer than before the accident.</p><p>He almost forgot that he had one at home.</p><p>The daemon he pulled out was a combination of plastic and rubber, with only two of her swords in hand. The rest were likely trapped at the bottom of the box with the rest of the smaller stuff. Half an arm was missing, but the rest were in one piece.</p><p>Rolling the marilith over in his hands, he could see many scuffs on its body. A great black line ran across the top of its tail, though he had no idea how it got there. Little dents lined up on the rubber from a time he probably bit into it as a little kid.</p><p>When he set it down on the floor, the marilith was twice as large as his other figures. Not like in real life, but big enough to still be intimidating.</p><p>The airship forgotten, Noctis plunged the nearest glaive into battle, crashing it against the serpentine body, which gave off a dramatic hiss from its voice box. He rotated the glaives hand, positioning his sword against those of the marilith, and let out a growl of his own as plastic clacked against plastic.</p><p>“Die.”</p><p>Then, the glaive was flung out of his hand, across the room to meet his demise. Noctis swapped him out for another, but she only had a shield, and got flung too.</p><p>“Stop it!” one of the guards screamed in a chalky whisper.</p><p>Six glaives and ten crownsguards later, each one crying for help before being killed, he ripped the final arms from the marilith as it shrieked, louder than any of the soldiers, and it fell to the carpet, dead.</p><p>That’s when he realized Ignis was watching.</p><p>Heat burned onto his cheeks, and anxiety gripped his chest. In the midst of the action played out with his hands, he forgot completely that Ignis was also here. Watching, <em>listening</em> to him act everything out.</p><p>The urge to throw the armless marilith at him and make him go away was as high as it could be, but the glare he sent as warning was enough to make Ignis scoot away, leaving the toys Noctis handed him behind.</p><p>That was fine. Noctis positioned himself so his back was to Ignis, and kept his mouth shut and his toys out of sight from that point on.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>A light drizzle of rain took over Limbo that night, softening the earth and helping Noctis discover a trail of pawprints that eventually led him to Carbuncle, who eventually led him to Ardyn, in the process of finding shelter. It only took a few more minutes of wandering for the light shower to start pouring heavier, and while Noctis didn’t mind the water too much, Ardyn showed no interest in getting the mud stuck to his legs. They settled for a rotted out fallen tree, which seemed to be the best bet to keep them dry.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ignis was bothering me today,” Noctis began once they were sufficiently protected. The embarrassment he felt had turned to annoyance as the evening progressed, and he was eager to finally tell Ardyn about it. “I was trying to play and he kept watching me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn hummed, reaching for a branch and snapping it, angling it so it covered his feet better. “Is that so?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Uh-huh. I was making the soldiers fight and yell and he was staring,” irritation returned to his voice as he spoke. Seriously, did Ignis have to do this all the time?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And I suppose that caused you a great deal of grief,” Ardyn rolled his shoulders back, stretching them as they came behind his body.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” obviously it did. Noctis frowned as he watched Ardyn, waiting, but the older man didn't so much as look at him, seeming disinterested in the issue.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s stupid,” Noctis reminded him. “People keep saying how much better he is, but he’s really rude. He’s, um…uncouth.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn taught him that word recently.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Quite the thorn in your side.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The answer was non-committal, just as bored as the other responses Noctis was receiving. He wrinkled his nose, and faced Carbuncle instead, patting his leg so the fox would curl up on top.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nights like this were hard, because on top of not being able to really go anywhere, Ardyn was acting uninterested in everything. He had Carbuncle at least, and smoothed the fur on his back as the rain continued to fall around them, the water causing fur to stick to his hand when he lifted it. Noctis wiped it on his pajama shirt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I miss Umbra and Pryna,” he said out loud. “I don't have any pets when I’m awake.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Perhaps you should alert your father to that. I’ve no doubt the king’s resources will compensate the animal of your choosing, and as prince, you’re certainly capable of getting whatever you wish.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis shrugged. “I like Umbra. He’s smart.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Suit yourself, Star.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>More silence, save for the rainfall. Carbuncle’s paws caught bits of the fabric of his pants, pulling loosely. It’d be nice for him to be around while awake. Noctis always wanted him to walk around the citadel with. He could sit on the couch with him while he played video games, or at his feet during tutoring, and at dinner. Maybe Carbuncle could eat the vegetables for him. Plus, he’d share his bed with Carbuncle so they never have to go looking for each other in Limbo. They could just show up in the same spot.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is he really any worse than before? Ignis?”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis stopped petting Carbuncle, turning to see Ardyn looking down on him, eyebrow cocked, and chin resting on his fist.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I saw quite a few of those altercations you’ve described in the past. Well,” he paused, thinking it over, “all of them, actually.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What do you mean?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“All those quarrels,” Ardyn waved his free hand, as if swiping through pictures on a screen. “He does stick his nose in your business a lot, I suppose, though your memories show that having waned over the years.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“See?” that's right, Ardyn had seen everything himself. He should know already what it was like. “He’s mean to me all the time.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But Ardyn didn't agree. Instead, he threw back his head and laughed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“On the contrary, I found him to be quite subservient! You really do torment him so,” Ardyn looked at him, an amused grin on his face. “Why?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s the one being mean,” he tried to sound strong, but his voice came out as more of an insistent whine. Embarrassed, his hold on Carbuncle tightened, causing the fox to pull himself out of his grasp. “You saw. He’s… he’s the one who starts it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Half of your fights haven’t rhyme or reason to them. The staring you’ve described, losing those games of yours, I’ve seen it. I’m just surprised that was truly all it took to instigate you. One look, and a berserker awakens! All that kicking and slapping. Did you bite him at one point? I could have sworn that happened, but there were so many instances… you must understand I won’t remember them all.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That wasn't fair. Yes, he had done all those things, but it was because of what Ignis did, not himself. And Ardyn was supposed to be on his side. Noctis even shared his memories with him, so he should understand better than before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t get it,” he grumbled accusingly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I suppose not,” Ardyn stretched out, lifting one of the branches to give himself space. “Looks like the rain’s cleared. Shall we?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noctis hadn’t noticed the torrents subsiding to a light patter during the discussion. He made no motion to venture out with Ardyn, who now stood upright to properly exercise the sleep from his muscles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Held back by the sting of what was honestly betrayal, Noctis grinded his teeth. Ardyn wasn’t supposed to make him feel bad, not for complaining or anything. He always went to Ardyn when problems came up, and every time, Ardyn would help him, agree with him. Getting to see his memories shouldn’t have changed that, because that meant…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That meant that Noctis was doing something wrong.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The first option that came to mind was obvious. He could demand Ardyn see for himself what Ignis did earlier that day. He even said himself that he couldn't remember all the memories Noctis had, so seeing something that was from today would give him the idea of what things were actually like.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Already he could hear Ardyn telling him, “emergencies only”, but if he just looked…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Would he still tell Noctis he was wrong?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It wasn't like he ever meant to hurt Ignis. He just got in the way a lot, and Noctis couldn't control getting angry. Only sometimes was he able to remember to walk away, or to find something else to do, or to breathe and all the other little things he practiced. People didn't actually think about that sort of stuff when they were angry.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe showing Ardyn another time they fought wouldn’t help. But, if he could come up with a time that he was nice, Ardyn would have to believe that.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Luckily, the chance to prove himself came up just a few days later.</p><p>Gladio came over again, and with both of their dads sitting in the same room while Noctis rummaged for the racing game Ignis agreed to the most – the one he liked - the space felt full.</p><p>Plenty of people that would see that Noctis was a good friend. Which wasn’t to say that he liked the attention. It was hard to not respond to Gladio sighing when picking up his controller, and harder still to ignore Clarus and Dad’s choice to stay when the game started. Noctis couldn't tell if they were paying attention or not. Their conversation in the background made him bristle, unsure why they were there.</p><p>He pushed the joystick forward with all the strength he could muster as the countdown began, holding the engine button down, releasing it, and then tapping again when the race started. The track was a bumpy one, no sharp turns at least, but his car could barely be kept straight because of the way everything was designed. He ended up being the last one to start the second lap because of it.</p><p>Because he hadn’t played in so long.</p><p>The next lap was easier, but still annoyingly threw his car around the screen, falling off the track and into the grass that slowed him down further. The good news was that he was able to line himself up to reach an item box, and used it to push ahead. He was in fourth by the time he crossed the starting line again, behind even the computer characters.</p><p>Then his car landed on an oil slick and spun off course. The others zipped past, and Noctis could feel a sneer forming on his face.</p><p>Behind him, Dad and Clarus laughed.</p><p>The swishing sound of Ignis and Gladio both crossing the finish line signaled his loss, echoed by a hissed “yes!” from Gladio upon claiming first place. He pumped his fist in the air for unnecessary emphasis.</p><p>Noctis threw his controller at his feet, hating how he squealed as he did so. The game’s upbeat music continued as Gladio’s character posed victoriously. All other sound in the room had vanished, and Noctis could feel eyes focusing in on him.</p><p>His empty hands clenched. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t played in so long. They didn't have to make fun of him for it.</p><p>
  <em>“You really do torment him so.”</em>
</p><p>No, he didn’t.</p><p>
  <em>“Why?”</em>
</p><p>They were the ones that started it.</p><p>
  <em>“Why?”</em>
</p><p>Ardyn didn't get it. He didn’t get how they stared, acting like they were better just because they placed higher.</p><p>
  <em>“One look, and a berserker awakens!”</em>
</p><p>The game returned to the character menu. He didn’t get<em> that</em> upset. And he wasn’t a berserker. He wasn’t starting it.</p><p>Noctis picked up the controller. He could still feel everyone watching as he selected the same character as before, changing the vehicle to something faster.</p><p>The next race was another loss, as well as the one after that. When the fourth race yielded the same result he quit altogether, retreating to his room.</p><p>He didn't torment anyone like Ardyn said.</p><p>The sight of his bed made him consider going to sleep right then and there. No one had followed him, so it was as good a time as any to tell, maybe even show Ardyn that he <em>wasn’t</em> the one starting fights.</p><p>He left the walker by the bedside, climbing on top without needing it for support. It wasn’t easy to pull the blanket back like this, but he managed, yanking it down so he could get underneath.</p><p>The sheets were cool to the touch, but heated up quickly. A bit too much for him to keep his entire body under. Noctis kicked until one of his legs was free. Perfect.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“Absolutely not. I told you this is only for emergencies.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>The hand on his shoulder was gentle, but Noctis groaned all the same, shaking it off as Dad’s voice disrupted the lull of sleep.</p><p>“Ignis and Gladiolus are leaving for the day. Could you come out and say goodbye?”</p><p>Did he really have to? Noctis couldn't help but moan, but did drag himself out of bed, groggily stumbling to the walker, which Dad turned for him to grab easily.</p><p>Dad didn’t rush the stiff walk back, staying by his side as they made their way to the sitting room where the others were waiting.</p><p>“Have a good evening, Noctis.”</p><p>“See ya.”</p><p>Noctis waved, eyes on the couch where the controllers were still spread out on the cushions. Maybe it’d be a good time to get back to one of his platformers. The others were walking out now, leaving him and Dad alone, so he made up his mind to go ahead, taking small steps until he was able to sit himself down and turn the system on.</p><p>A weight fell beside him.</p><p>“I’m proud of you for today.”</p><p>Another talk? When he’d just woke up? Hoping it’d be a short one, Noctis continued through the menu until he found the game he wanted.</p><p>“You’ve been making an effort with controlling yourself,” Dad paused for a moment, looking at him before facing the screen to see the game. “It’s good to see how strong you’re becoming. I doubt you’ll need the walker for long.”</p><p>It seemed like whenever Dad wanted to spend time with him, it always had to be about this stuff. Couldn't they just play video games without talking?</p><p>“I know none of this is easy for you.”</p><p>Of course they couldn’t. There was a second when Dad sat down that he hoped that would be the case today, but he was stupid to think it.</p><p>Dad stopped again, beginning to tap his leg, vibrating across the ground and into Noctis’ feet. He squinted as the metal on Dad’s brace bounced light across the screen, wishing he’d stop.</p><p>The loading screen finally brought him to the game itself, and the music helped to drown Dad out as he tried to remember what he’d been doing the last time. The area was familiar, but he didn't remember saving here. Plus, after not playing for months Noctis wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be doing. The game guide could probably help, but he left the tablet in his bedroom, didn’t he?</p><p>No, a glance to the side showed that he left it here in the first place, but Noctis didn’t feel like getting up to grab it. If he walked around for a little while he’d probably find out what the current objective was. Besides, it wasn’t like <em>Dad</em> would stop talking and take out his own to help.</p><p>“I don’t want you to feel any pressure…”</p><p>If Dad didn’t want that, then Noctis wouldn't have any reason to be clenching his jaw right now. Already he knew where Dad was going. He’d start talking about something Noctis did wrong, acting like he wouldn't even though Noctis was always able to tell. Talking about things that were “important,” and why he and Noctis had to do them.</p><p>From the corner of his eye, Noctis could see Dad’s body sag.</p><p>“There are so many important things I wish I could tell you.”</p><p>He <em>knew</em> he’d say that. He knew it.</p><p>“But,” Dad continued, facing him, still hunched over. “I’m happy that you’re voicing yourself more.”</p><p>The car.</p><p>His stomach churned just as it had back then as the memory played again in his mind. Thanking Luna was an automatic thing. It wasn’t like he planned to do it or thought about it until the word had already left his mouth. And then Dad didn't say anything so he couldn't tell if even heard or not, but he had to. He had and now he was finally saying it. Now-</p><p>“You know,” he froze, fingers stopped where they were and body shrinking in as Dad spoke.</p><p>“I’ll never shame,” Dad scooted down the couch, closer, “or hurt you, if you want to speak up. When you want to, of course. I’ll love you no matter what.”</p><p>With that, Dad bent forward, planting a kiss in his hair.</p><p>Noctis didn't move.</p><p>Did he want to say anything? There were plenty of times in the past for sure. When Dad would make him go somewhere he didn’t want to go he’d feel like screaming instead of just typing. Or when he wanted him to tell just one more story when he was little, but Dad didn’t ask him so he couldn’t nod. And he was never desperate enough to try to grab his arm to make him stay. Were those the kind of things Dad even wanted to hear?</p><p>They seemed like such small, unnecessary things to talk about. Petty even, and he could feel the grip on his controller loosen from sweat as he considered the idea. Dad would be disappointed, angry at the things he’d talk about. He was always fine with typing, even when disagreeing with what Noctis had to say. At this point it just felt normal.</p><p>Maybe he should nod, or pick up his tablet after all so he could try to think of something, but Dad already placed his hands on either side of his knees, face crinkling with the effort of getting up. It felt too late to do anything but continue playing.</p><p>Back on the screen, his character was idle from how long he stopped. He moved the camera around, but didn't focus on any of it, still feeling like he should communicate something to Dad, and feeling worse because he waited too long.</p><p>And then Dad howled.</p><p>The curse was so loud that Noctis’ controller slipped out of his hands, though he paid it no mind, climbing off the couch and stumbling around it to find Dad crumpled on the floor. His body shuddered as he tried to recover, half way upright before collapsing, swearing a second time.</p><p>He should do something, but Noctis stayed rooted, able only watch as Dad reached down, hands fumbling with the brace with a painful expression on his face. He stretched his leg out, wincing.</p><p>A loud hitch of breath left Noctis, bringing him back to himself. His lips twisted, daring, wanting to ask if Dad was okay.</p><p>But still he was motionless, unable to do anything as Dad changed tactics.</p><p>“Noctis,” Dad was<em> not</em> supposed to sound like that. Not pained and raspy. But the call worked, finally letting his feet take him to stand over Dad. He reached out, hand hovering as he tried to figure out what to do, when he saw black tracing his nails.</p><p>A sliver of ichor surfaced at his fingers, crawled down, and vanished under the sleeve of his shirt.</p><p>Immediately, he pulled back, grabbing his hand and hugging it to himself, terrified. The scourge had not appeared on his skin the last time, and Queen Sylva took it away afterward. Technically, yes, there was some left, but it was only supposed to be a little bit. Not enough to show up. Not enough to hurt. Ardyn promised it wouldn’t do those things again.</p><p>“Noctis, the guard.”</p><p>The guard. The guard could help.</p><p>He rushed, legs nearly giving out as he fell against the door. Tugging his sleeves down, he threw it open and moved as best he could, looking back and forth.</p><p>The guards were at the end of the hall, and he couldn’t go fast enough without limping towards them. Fortunately they noticed, coming to him instead. Noctis had to lean against the wall just to gain his baring, but as soon as they were close enough he grabbed the nearest of them by their sleeve covered wrist, not caring that they could see the tears forming in his eyes, and pulled them back to the room.</p><p>Once they saw for themselves, the guards moved into action, one to Dad’s side to help lay him out, and the other speaking into her radio to request help. Somehow, that made everything feel more serious. Noctis wanted to help, but…</p><p>He pulled his hand to his chest again.</p><p>No one paid attention to him as a doctor arrived, examining Dad before helping him back up. Noctis stayed stuck to the wall, transfixed until Dad was taken out of the room.</p><p>Someone, one of the guards, told him it was going to be okay, because nothing was broken and it was just a fall.</p><p>The spot the scourge disappeared into itched, and Noctis scratched.</p><p>-</p><p>Unable to risk the chance of any servants seeing his arms, Noctis retreated to his room, digging through his wardrobe until he found the hoodie he was looking for. One with thumb holes on its extra long sleeves that covered everything but his fingers, which he could put in the pouch on the front just in case.</p><p>He didn't know what to do after that. Returning to the sitting room met him with the sound of his game, still on the screen, character still idle. Controller still on the floor.</p><p>Picking it up was the only thing he could think to do, and after that he figured he may as well try to keep playing. But the game didn't give the distraction he needed. Every minute ticking by was another of him not knowing what happened to Dad, or whether he was okay for real or not. Yes, the guard said things were okay, but they were guards. Not doctors. And the doctor had to take Dad away.</p><p>The game was turned off in the end. It didn't feel like fun anymore, and he couldn’t focus, eyes falling down to his thumbs and investigating them all over every few minutes.</p><p>Hours would go by before he finally heard Dad’s return. He was in his bedroom, flopped onto the bed with his tablet playing some video that had come on after several others he clicked through. Nothing he was actually paying attention to, the screen making him feel somewhat sick after a while, so he muted it and just left the video part on. He wasn’t even looking at it anymore when he heard the muffled sounds of people coming from Dad’s door.</p><p>He stumbled out of bed, creeping to his walker once he was on the floor so no one would overhear him. The door to Dad’s room he left closed, pressing his ear against where it met the wall so he could listen.</p><p>“It’s barely evening.”</p><p>
  <em>Dad.</em>
</p><p>“Into bed, Your Majesty.”</p><p>And Clarus. He probably came back when he found out what happened. Noctis couldn't make out the next part, but he could tell Dad was grumbling something.</p><p>“Now you’re sounding like yourself.”</p><p>As carefully as he could manage, Noctis turned the doorknob. No squeaking sound came as he pulled it open. The angle made it so he had to twist his neck if he was going to peak in.</p><p>He was met with the sight of Clarus’ back, shielding Dad from view.</p><p>“You tried to heal it, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Futilely. The doctor approved it, but not even an elixir could do anything.”</p><p>Dad’s voice was weary, and it made the hairs on Noctis’ arms stand up. Listening suddenly felt wrong to do, even though he could tell the annoyance his Dad felt wasn't toward him. Noctis strained his head a bit more, catching Dad’s face turning. He followed the direction of his eyes, and inhaled at the sight of a black cane resting against the bedside table.</p><p>“Don’t look at it like that,” Clarus growled, his voice booming despite the clear attempt at a whisper, “Your son is using a walker for Titan’s sake.”</p><p>Dad looked ready to start with him, sending a glare Clarus’ way and opening his mouth to fire back, but his eyes flickered, connecting with Noctis’ own.</p><p>“Son,” his voice came out softer than Noctis expected, “come here.”</p><p>Caught in the act, he pushed the door open with the front of the previously mentioned walker and approached, trying not to look as Clarus turned to acknowledge him. His legs felt heavy, slowing his pace to meet Dad at his bedside.</p><p>When he reached him, Dad straightened up, extending his hands to take Noctis’ from the walker’s bars.</p><p>“That was pretty scary, wasn't it?”</p><p>It was. Noctis looked down at the space between their arms, at the bar that his own had to be brought over.</p><p>“It was just an accident though. Nothing for you to worry about.”</p><p>Dad smiled at him, but Noctis couldn’t do the same. Next to him was the cane, plain and black and fitting in entirely too much with the rest of the room.</p><p>“Hey,” his hand was squeezed, and he looked away to see Dad glancing at the cane as well, “I’ll be using that temporarily, until my leg is strong again, like yours are getting to be.”</p><p>Another wave of discomfort came over him. Dad was still smiling, but it looked odd. Just a few hours ago he swore and got hurt, and now he said an elixir couldn't even help him. And he was supposed to pretend that was okay?</p><p>He looked down again, where Dad’s hands held him in place, blinking, his vision blurring.</p><p>Was that another black splotch on his thumb?</p><p>Noctis jerked back, wiping his eyes and looking Dad over for any signs. There was nothing he could see, no scourge on Dad’s face, just confusion, but he couldn't look for more than a few seconds. He grabbed the bars of the walker and turned it around, retreating to his room and shutting the door behind him.</p><p>He buried himself headfirst into his pillow as soon as he reached his own bed, not caring that he twisted his spine in the way he wasn't supposed to lay to do it. How come he kept having to cry today? Already the pillowcase was starting to get wet, just seconds after climbing in.</p><p>Everything was wrong. All he wanted to do today was prove to Ardyn that he wasn’t the one starting everything, and now the thought felt selfish and trivial. Desperate, Noctis shut his eyes as tight as he could, wishing and demanding his mind to let him go to sleep and get help, but he felt completely wide awake. The nap he took earlier left him well rested, and he still couldn’t stop thinking about Dad falling, Dad needing help, Dad getting sick because of <em>him</em>.</p><p>And if he did get Dad sick, what would happen then? The image of Dad with starscourge running over his face, unable to leave bed, made him shudder. He wouldn’t be able to work. He’d have to go all the way back to Tenebrae, and Dad would hurt even more because it took so long to get there.</p><p>And wasn’t it Noctis’ job to take over if Dad couldn’t be king anymore?</p><p>Another image appeared in his mind. Council members pulling him downstairs, asking him questions he didn’t know how to answer, wanting him to rule instead, expecting him to speak.</p><p>What if he was terrible at it? There was no way he’d be able to say all the things Dad could. He could imagine Dad yelling at him now for the mistakes he’d make while he was getting better. If he got better.</p><p>He choked as his breathing became worse and the thoughts repeated over and over again, each replay worse than the last, until finally, he fell asleep.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn, he’d never been so desperate to see him in his life, was gratefully right there when he opened his eyes, still red with tears. Noctis scrambled up, running over and grabbing his robe, crying to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I have to show you something!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was pried away, brought down to the ground as Ardyn recognized, cared about the stress he was under. Cold hands cupped his face, allowing him to see Ardyn, ready to help, concern clear on his face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What is it?”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dad’s hurt. And he tried an elixir but it did- didn’t work. And they’re supposed to fix everything,” he gulped in more air, sprouting fresh tears. “And he needs a cane and I think I saw scourge and he’s gonna be sick.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Slow down, breathe first Star.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He couldn’t- he didn’t have time to think about breathing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I saw starscourge!” he repeated desperately, “and I didn’t know how to make it go away and I- we held hands and I think I saw more. You have to help him!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“One thing at a time, you have to calm down first.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Swallowing, Noctis stopped and nodded, watching Ardyn as he modeled a deep breath for him to follow along to. It was hard, with him practically choking as he sniffled, but Ardyn had done this with him before. Eventually, his breathing smoothed out, and Ardyn began asking him questions.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You said your father is hurt, yes?”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His head bobbed heavily. Yes to that, and to seeing the scourge too, which he clarified better so Ardyn would understand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It came back. You have to look cause I can’t tell if I hurt Dad or not. Please.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He held up the arm that he saw the scourge in earlier that day, waiting, but Ardyn didn’t take his hand. Just looked at it with a face of too many emotions to comprehend. Maybe disgust, reluctance? How could Ardyn hold back at a time like this?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn shook his head, mouth parting, but Noctis beat him to the cut.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You said we could do it in an emergency,” he reminded him. “Dad’s hurt and it could be my fault.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Did this not count to Ardyn? What was he waiting for?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn looked from the hand to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Are you certain?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You have to help.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was only a wince. Just a cringe. A convulsion, nothing else. The scourge resurfaced on his skin, in the place where Noctis learned how to control it best. Ardyn grimaced, pressing his lips together and shutting his eyes as he traded over scourge for memory.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A minute and it was gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Did you see?”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Just a moment,” eyes on the ground, Ardyn pulled away. Quietly, Noctis hoped, paying as close attention as possible to the part he told him about.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It's a few months worth, is it? I just need some time to-“<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s the stuff that just happened,” he provided. That was the part he was trying to show Ardyn to begin with.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, yes,” Ardyn rubbed his eyes. “Noctis, I didn’t see any scourge in your father. Aside from that trip of his, he appears fine.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you sure?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ardyn stilled. Again, moving too slowly for how serious things were. He stared off over Noctis’ shoulder, face hollow. At least he looked like he understood the problem now.<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes,” he whispered, “positive.”</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>It was later, much later when Noctis finally did wake up again. No lights had been on when he fell asleep, leaving the room as dark as it could be.</p><p>Talking with Ardyn helped. He didn’t know anything that could be done about Dad’s leg, but at least was able to assure Noctis that Dad hadn’t been infected. That’s what mattered the most.</p><p>Noctis rubbed at his eyes, crusty from crying, and looked around the room as he adjusted to the lack of light. Although he was feeling better, he still wished he could do something to help Dad. If Ardyn were here, maybe he’d teach Dad the same things he taught Noctis, about how to clear his mind when he was hurt, how he could conceal the pain himself. He’d try doing it on his own, but knew he wouldn't be able to explain it well enough.</p><p>Dad… Dad admitted that getting hurt was scary for him. It wasn't something Noctis was used to seeing from him, but he understood the feeling. It was the same for him with the marilith, and when he was learning how to handle the scourge, and when… when it was the scourge, Luna held his hand, grounding him, helping him to relax, just as Ardyn had. But he really didn’t want to do that with Dad again. Not yet.</p><p>There was another memory. How Dad would feel better when he told stories, which just thinking about made Noctis shudder to consider trying. There was no way he could do that. It was what he probably wanted Noctis to do, but he’d mess it up. He was sure of it. Besides, talking wasn't going to make Dad be able to walk without a cane.</p><p>But maybe something else could.</p><p>When he opened the door, ignoring his walker this time so his hands would be free, Clarus was gone, and Dad was lying in bed.</p><p>He didn’t count on Dad to still be awake.</p><p>Fingers already growing sweaty, Noctis forced his legs to carry him to Dad’s bed one more time, earning fast attention. He swallowed as Dad set aside the book he had open. This time, his smile was no longer a mask but genuine. Tired, yet relieved.</p><p>“I thought you were asleep, Noctis. Is there something you need?”</p><p>Immediately, his head ducked down to his feet, throat swelling as Dad watched him, expectantly.</p><p>This was easy. He could do it.</p><p>Dad looked at his hand.</p><p>“Do you have something?”</p><p>He couldn’t even nod. His body was shaking with the effort of just standing on its own after lying in one place for so long.</p><p>“It-“ he squeaked, and at last the spell on his body broke. Noctis slammed the carbuncle down on the bedside, and before Dad could react, ran as fast as he could out of the room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't know how to write short chapters anymore.</p><p>Next month I'll be working on edits to this story in lieu of an update. Expect to see a few minor changes; tags and story description will be the most noticeable. Updates will resume in April. Feel free to ask any questions below.</p><p>A shout out to StarryKnight94. You read what looks like the entire story in one evening, leaving comments on each chapter. I've read them all, and am beyond thankful that you shared your thoughts and theories. I hope you continue to enjoy the ride.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>No matter how lightly Clarus set the files onto his desk, they still managed to resound as loud as a brick dropping between Regis’ ears, the weight of their purpose amplifying the flutter of paper.</p><p>For his shield, it was certainly not as loud as the tired sigh Regis greeted the sight with, making no effort to hide his disgust as he rolled his eyes. The same folders found their way to his desk again and again, five years of wear and tear containing his “prospects”.</p><p>Time’s passage eliminated the excess of candidates thrust upon him, each swift rejection shrinking down the profiles. The brevity, however, wouldn’t inspire him to look, the offense of the gesture only being allowed once before he chose not to open them again.</p><p>“We have a meeting,” he blinked at the files, “in less than an hour.”</p><p>“Perhaps they think you can squeeze in a decision.”</p><p>Regis slouched back in his seat. “We’re supposed to be discussing Tenebrae’s reinforcements today. There’s little room to speculate on the timing of this, much less read a word of it.”</p><p>“Maybe they intended to catch you off guard,” Clarus suggested, “I’m sure you prefer the war tactics.”</p><p>“I’d rather respond to a siege,” he pushed the files to the side. Childish a move as it was, he could trust Clarus to keep his judgment in the flicker of their eyes locking together. “They’d be imprudent to expect me to even look at them at a time like this.”</p><p>That, and he refused to allow the topic to be interjected into the approaching meeting. Thursday was one of Noctis’ days, where he was scheduled to join in deliberating the issues slated by the council. He forbade any discussion of “alternates” in front of his son, regardless of the accusations that he was sheltering Noctis in doing so.</p><p>It was why Regis was counting on Noctis to contribute that day. He had been fully silent in the past weeks worth of meetings, be it due to boredom, anxiety, unpreparedness, or some amalgamation of those factors. Noctis’ growth over the past year was unmistakable, even to the most scrutinous of councilors, increasing in verbosity since his first meeting, even if he continued to lack in the eye contact department.</p><p>Back then, Regis couldn't help but feel sickened by his son’s reception. Despite his reserved nature and the briefing he personally conducted before introducing Noctis, he was still overwhelmed by streams of questioning and awkward silences in those first weeks of attendance. </p><p>Plenty of the council grew to accept the pace of Noctis’ progress, some within the first meeting and others gradually developing patience with him. Hopefully, they’d be in attendance that afternoon. Military tactics were a weak spot for the young prince, and he’d do far better with discussing strategy if he had those additional voices ready to defend any statements he made.</p><p>“I’m going to burn them, Clarus,” he announced, remembering the files set before him, “send a proper message.”</p><p>“It’d be a great offense for you to do so, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Regis summoned a flame in his hand.</p><p>“You don’t like them anymore than I. Burn them, or I’ll do it myself, and relieve you of your duties.”</p><p>“I’ll expect my last paycheck,” Clarus returned, the phrase familiar in Regis’ ears, a joke so well used that neither of them properly laughed at it anymore, though it continued to repeat all the same.</p><p>He vanished the flame, annoyed. Their dialog was decades old, repeated ad nauseum for unrelated, minor slights, and folders pleading cooperation Regis would never give.</p><p>Regis swiped the files towards him, stuffing them into one of the bottom drawers of his desk.</p><p>“Good choice, you can say you’re still reviewing them.”</p><p>“At least one glance as they’re put through the shredder.”</p><p>“Naturally.”</p><p>-</p><p>“Tenebrae’s made plenty of push back on their own in the past month, if the accounts they gave us, personally, might I add, are accurate. Is there truly necessity for further intervention when they’re already reclaiming the land they previously lost? Our troops are busy enough in our own territories.”</p><p>“Which is why we should expedite their removal of Niflheimr forces,” Daos argued, and Regis loathed to agree with the sentiments of the councilmen who he often found himself at odds with. “This invasion requires an investment of resources and confidence in our allies. That which they will return to us in Galahd once we’ve secured their borders for them.”</p><p>“Should our own lands be deprived of security to fulfill their demands? These daemons are being dropped in some of our most vulnerable regions. Farming communities, and you know they can’t afford the kind of lighting essential to defending themselves from an attack of this magnitude. This is where our glaive need to be deployed. <em>Not</em> in a war zone that is already on the upturn.”</p><p>The debate was heated from the moment the subject was open to comment that afternoon. Though they were nearing recess, little had been done beyond opinions scattering across the table, firing from one mouth and triggering the next to weigh in favor or tear the other apart. The passion with which they argued was the sole distraction from the ever present chill in the room, each voice echoing up to the high ceiling and bounding back, emphasizing each point Regis’ council raised.</p><p>“What justification do they have to expect us to spare so many troops,” the squabble continued, “five hundred. They are demanding an army, not a replenishment of forces. Numbers like those would mean all of Eos to our people if we stationed them domestically.”</p><p>“Perhaps, His Highness would care to weigh in on the matter.”</p><p>Noctis, suited and slumped in his chair on Regis’ right hand, flinched upon being addressed. For a large part of the meeting, Regis kept watch on him from the corner of his eye, indirectly observing for any indication that he may participate. There were no signs that he was drifting away from the debate, but he clearly was intent on keeping to himself, the flexing of his arm betraying the fidgeting occurring under the table.</p><p>Probably picking at his jacket, loosening a button or rubbing the ends of his sleeves between his fingers. A nervous habit, but also a hidden effort to pay attention that Regis wouldn’t fault. Occupying his hands seemed to help Noctis focus his mind more often than not.</p><p>As with all meetings Noctis attended before, there was a lingering pause in the chamber that came with the council’s eyes locking onto him, while his own grounded themselves on the notes resting on the table before him. No movement to show he was actually reading them, just thinking.</p><p>Noctis swallowed, and in his typical, shaky speech, began his quiet response.</p><p>“The, uh, Oracle requested seven hundred. We sh-,“ the number came out like sludge before his words caught. Noctis swallowed again. “It’s their border, so they’ll know… how much they need.”</p><p>His last words were pushed out consecutively, one after the other until Noctis was finished, but Regis caught the raise in volume that came with them. Growing confidence.</p><p>“Any further reasoning, Your Highness?” Councilman Erol was a sympathetic ear from day one, always stepping in to encourage Noctis in fleshing out his thoughts, though often overstating himself to the point that Noctis withdrew rather than spoke up.</p><p>“We understand the Oracle’s request, but Councilman Daos makes a reasonable point regarding the vulnerability of our countryside. We would not only put them at risk by pulling out those troops, but our farming industry as a whole. That impacts not just the region they reside in, but every area of Lucis receiving food from there.”</p><p>The statement was intended to guide Noctis, Regis knew, though overzealous in the details of consequences Sylva’s request could incur. The flaw had made the rapport between the two a frequent area of challenge, even at Erol’s reserved efforts.</p><p>“They,” Noctis started again, “we could recruit from someplace else.”</p><p>“Such as?”</p><p>Noctis parted his mouth, but shut it just as quickly, whatever he was about to say being reconsidered, or perhaps done away with all together.</p><p>Regis could feel the anxiety permeating from his son, the only thing filling the room other than silence. The time Noctis was given was an accommodation he had never been afforded growing up, yet in it he recalled the expectation pushed upon him by his father to have his arguments prepared for all meetings, a speech memorized for every question that may be thrown at him by the council.</p><p>By now, a younger Regis would have been ridiculed by every one of them for his lack of preparation on top of debating the position he brought to the table. And he would have defended himself while looking each of them in the eye, striving to meet the standard to which he was raised. That again, in thanks to his father, who taught him when he was still years off from attending council to speak as if he were already in command of the room.</p><p>“There are some reserves in Galahd…” a woman began, attempting to progress the meeting, but she was swiftly cut off.</p><p>“Galahd! The backlash would be akin to crucifixion! We can’t just pull out when their land is being tested-“</p><p>“Let them stew over it. After all we’ve done to keep the territory, they ought to be grateful for being as untouched by the war as they’ve been.”</p><p>“I’ve made my stance clear. We’ve already given enough aid to Tenebrae during this crisis. If anywhere, we should move our military inward to Duscae, where our own conflicts lie, before losing more of our resources to the Tenebraen border. Our nation comes first.”</p><p>With the council falling into repetitious dissension, Regis set his eyes back on Noctis. His shoulders slackened under the safety of bickering heads, wise enough to know his comment was the prompt, but not the focus of the remaining minutes they would be sitting.</p><p>“Any favor to be gained in supporting Tenebrae is weakened by the duration of this deliberation,” Regis intruded, quieting the council as he spoke over them, and softening his voice to keep them concentrated, “We’ll reconvene on the matter next week, at which point His Highness will give his proposition for how many troops to deploy to Tenebrae. Any countering proposals will also be reviewed.”</p><p>When Regis rose, it signaled the end of the meeting, and not a second had passed before his son did the same. He reached the exit with record speed, as he had with every meeting that required his attendance. Regis would have been glad to join him, if it weren’t for the proverbial arms taking advantage of his slow gait.</p><p>He walked past each attempt to reach out to him, regretting the lack of stretching on his part as he pushed himself to catch up with Noctis. Outside, he was already making distance from the chamber.</p><p>“Noctis, a word.”</p><p>That stayed his son, turning to meet him as Regis caught up, slowing only for the sake of his knee before beckoning Noctis to continue with him, following the route to their respective offices.</p><p>Once they were out of earshot, save for Clarus trailing a respectable distance behind, Regis spoke.</p><p>“They were incomprehensible toward the end,” he joked, smiling in hopes of encouraging Noctis to do the same, “yet I heard no course of action solid enough to justify one voice in the room. This break couldn’t have been timed better.”</p><p>“Mmm.”</p><p>Only noise in response. Not the best sign after a meeting, particularly when it was clear that Noctis would not have spoken at all, had it not been for provocation.</p><p>“If we are to spare the troops Queen Sylva has requested, we’ll need our army to be redistributed. I’m certain you and Ignis will be able to allocate them in a way that is conducive to each region.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noctis whispered.</p><p>It took more effort than Regis wanted to keep the pace Noctis set. He strengthened the grip on his cane as they made their way to the break off point, doing his best to stay by his side.</p><p>Noctis slowed to a halt at the turning point, not facing, but politely waiting for Regis to conclude the… conversation.</p><p>“I’m certain you’ll be kept busy with this and your studies,” he empathized, “Go. We’ll see each other tonight.”</p><p>Noctis nodded, a stiff agreement before Regis stepped to the side, signaling that he was dismissed.</p><p>He looked nothing like a prince, hunched over as if he were avoiding – and Regis was certain he was – the chance to be seen as he hurried down the hall. Like he was a mouse keeping to the shadows so as not to be singled out by whatever predator was looming overhead, as he scurried to the safety of his nest. Nothing signaled the pedigree of royalty, of a man who walked tall, taking pride in who he was, as if all eyes were on himself.</p><p>And the citadel certainly held eyes enough to behold him.</p><p>“You’re going to get stiff if we stand here all day.”</p><p>The reminder shot down his leg, uncomfortable from over an hour of being seated, and irritated after being kicked awake by his effort to keep up with Noctis.</p><p>“Let’s get to it then,” balancing on the cane, he turned and pushed forward, wincing as a creak of protest veined its way up his leg, warm pain that he was unfortunately well accustomed to.</p><p>It didn’t go unnoticed. A hand, cold as the council chambers themselves, laced around his arm as Clarus stopped him, not by force but with the alarm his furrowed brow betrayed, more than he ever allowed his stoic self to display in the open.</p><p>“You got up too quickly.”</p><p>“It’ll be alright, Clarus.”</p><p>“I’ll get the painkillers. You have some in your desk, yes?”</p><p>Treated by his closest as if he were glass. Gently, he pulled his arm away.</p><p>“I’ll stretch it when we get back.”</p><p>Clarus hardened at the assurance, but held his tongue until they were behind closed doors once more.</p><p>“You need to have it examined again. Unless you haven’t been taking care of it properly, it shouldn’t affect you just because you’ve stood up.”</p><p>“To what end?” Regis fell straight into his chair by the window, an overly ornamental thing, but hard and steady, suitable for its purpose. He bent his fingers in the warmth of the sun, preparing them before setting to task. “I don’t need another talk about staying consistent with stretches and exercise.”</p><p>First, he unstrapped the brace, setting it on his lap so he could massage the sides of his knee in firm circles, searching for the knot that had attacked him on the walk over.</p><p>“It’s only targeting your leg,” Clarus protested, louder and more willing to be honest now. “That gods damned thing on your finger can surely be slowed if it’s starting there. It’s not like what happened to-“</p><p>“Don’t.”</p><p>“I don’t want to see you die, Regis,” Clarus walked directly up to him, almost close enough to wall him into his seat, “You’ve already outlived King Mors by years, and you’re far better than he ever fared. Surely we can take time to work on something now, instead of putting all your energy in what comes after yourself.“</p><p>Clarus shook his head, the defeat with which he spoke stifling Regis from responding.</p><p>Because what Clarus described was exactly what his father did. Months of rambling that gradually turned incomprehensible, devoted entirely to Regis’ ascension. The rants would start by picking apart everything he was doing wrong, and how he had to fix it, only to warp into a longer tirade about some slight committed against himself decades ago. Some Regis knew, and others he only learned about in the moment.</p><p>Never a word of love. Regis asked one night, in the lead up of Mors’ passing, if he actually had any faith in his ability. After weeks of harsh attention, more than he ever received from his father in his life, the question slipped out, quieting the both of them.</p><p>“You’ll be alright,” he said. And that was that.</p><p>Never, never, could he treat Noctis like that.</p><p>“Clarus,” he straightened himself up, and his shield stepped back, allowing him space, “some time on my own. Please.”</p><p>Concern grew on Clarus’ face, his eyes squinting in search of something, a thought of what to say to keep Regis on topic, but it faded, replaced with the stern façade that he would mind the door with outside. Sighing, he conceded.</p><p>“Of course, Sire.”</p><p>-</p><p>The couch was looking extremely comfortable right now.</p><p>In the warmth – someone had to install a heater in the council chambers – of his own office, Noctis felt all the more invited to it, a break from the work that was spread out before him. He hadn’t made much leeway in either schooling or royal duties yet. The early morning classes he had that day, and the rush to redress for council, had kept him completely from accomplishing anything outside of sitting and listening.</p><p>Though, okay, he likely wouldn’t have been any more prepared for the meeting if free time had been given. But how did anyone expect him to keep up when he had school to balance on top of government affairs? It wasn’t as if the rest of the council had anything outside of preparing their next arguments to worry about when they were adjourned. Surely, they weren’t spending every waking moment in the citadel writing speeches. Surely, some of them were already snoozing in their own rooms, knocked out by their own monotonous blather.</p><p>Nah, half of them were too self-obsessed to be anything but smug with their performance. They were probably <em>invigorated</em> after meetings.</p><p>Noctis set to work on school first, thankful that busy work had been eliminated from his curriculum since he began attending the meetings last year. Ironically to give him time to devote to both, but he couldn’t deny being grateful for his studies being compressed to testing, essays, and, gods damn it all, oral presentations.</p><p>Maybe not so grateful.</p><p>Still, it had to beat whatever people were doing in public school. Noctis could only imagine having to recite to a class of fifty – that was how many kids were stuffed in a class, right? Here, only his tutors listened to him present, and he was certain the reason for the format at all was to keep “maintaining his progress”, or some crap like that.</p><p>Right then, the work. He had a textbook to read through and report on by the following Monday, nothing important or especially. The kind of assignment that was more about reading comprehension than the actual content of the book. There was no way he was going to force his eyes on the whole three hundred pages of it, so he took to skimming any bits he recognized and properly reading only whatever he wasn’t familiar with. It only made the task slightly more bearable.</p><p>He didn’t get very far, the first hundred or so pages all content he remembered from previous lessons, and was able to skip entirely, but by the time he found a spot that justified being read he was hit with the utter dryness of it all. His thoughts floated back to the structure he was forced to endure.</p><p>It was unfair. Technically speaking, he had two jobs to do. Granted, there were only two meetings he had to be in attendance for per week, but there was also his weekly performance review, and when he was free, hours of his time were lost to prep with-</p><p>A knock came at the door.</p><p>He didn’t have to look up to know who was calling “Your Highness” as they entered. Ignis usually showed up an hour or so after each council meeting to review notes and plan for the next one with him.</p><p>“So, you voiced full support for fulfilling Queen Sylva’s request,” Ignis shut the door behind him before he spoke, typical fashion to maintain the privacy of their discussion. “It’s a hefty demand, but I believe we can come up with a solid defense, provided we take the numbers from appropriate posts.”</p><p>Noctis stared at his page, irritated as Ignis began unloading his armful of folders. The book was not one he wanted to pick up on the weekend. Did they really have to do this now?</p><p>“I’ve brought the current distribution of the military in Lucis and our territories for us to review. There are a few places I’ve already marked that we could potentially extract from.”</p><p>He folded the page he was on, frowning when he closed it to the spread Ignis was fussing over. The table it was laid out on was the room’s center, bigger than his own desk, and so better suited for the map that was being unfolded on top of it. By the time he was sitting down next to him, Ignis had carefully placed each page he brought on top, covering it as efficiently as a tablecloth.</p><p>“Now, there’s a small presence in central Duscae that we may-“</p><p>“Not Duscae,” Titan’s ass, for how much Ignis managed to memorize, he somehow still missed the entire section of his precious council minutes where Noctis was lambasted for suggesting to actually <em>help</em> Tenebrae out. At least three people had expressed the problem with taking troops from Duscae.</p><p>“They have farms there. It’s in the notes,” he explained.</p><p>Ignis froze, gloved hand hovering where he meant to point out the stationed units.</p><p>“Not Duscae,” he agreed, and began scanning the map again. It was heavily marked up with indicators of crownsguard and glaive presence across the country, clearly a comprehensive one.</p><p>“Perhaps the south of Leide? The sea trade routes in place there have been untouched by the war for over a decade. I see some guards are still stationed… we may convince the council to ease this particular border.”</p><p>Sure.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>“It’s a decent sample, about one hundred and fifty. We could persuade parting with… thirty here, just off the coast. Those are small numbers, but there are also the current trainees. If we have all two hundred of them sent to Tenebrae, then we’ll have a good start towards the total.”</p><p>“Mhmm.”</p><p>The numbers were paltry, nowhere near what was needed, and Noctis trusted the letters he received from Luna regarding the matter. Tenebrae was being eaten alive, in the case of some of the empire’s daemons, literally. Yet all anyone seemed to care about was how the queen was “simply demanding too much.” And “too much” always meant that they didn't want to give anything over at all. No matter what side anyone took in the meetings Noctis was stuck in, once they had taken it there was virtually no budging them. Even with Dad directing him to make a proposal, it wasn’t as if anyone who was against the idea was going to actually listen.</p><p>So, why did he have to spend his time drafting up a plan no one would even care about?</p><p>“Break.”</p><p>“Your Highness, we’ve barely begun-"</p><p>He growled. They practically had five days to work on this, did they really need to figure out every detail right now? He already had enough time consuming deadlines for school going on, not that Ignis cared. Only a year on from his, naturally, early graduation, and already he treated Noctis like he forgot all the extra work he was expected to do.</p><p>“Break,” he repeated, harsher, getting off the couch and walking to the window, waiting for Ignis to leave. His eyes were met with the intensity of the sun, so he glared downward at the cityscape before him, trying to collect himself.</p><p>“Of course,” Ignis’ voice was followed by the quiet shuffle of papers. “I’ll come back with a few complete options for us to choose from this evening. We may have time to outline a speech this if-“</p><p>“Break.”</p><p>“Yes, Your Highness.”</p><p>He sucked in a breath, waiting for the sound of the door closing, solid, deep and echoing, before releasing it, trying to get rid of the guilt in his gut. Most of what Ignis laid out still remained, and he tried not to look at the set up as he made his way to the couch, flopping face first into the cushions.</p><p>He turned his back so he was face to face with the fabric, shutting out as much of the room as he could. Frustration had gotten the better of him again, and- damn it. He could have been way better at asking Ignis to leave if he hadn’t already been irritated by the schoolwork prior to him showing up.</p><p>Maybe he could follow- send a text or something. But at this point it would feel forced, too much time between snapping and realizing what he was actually angry about. It wouldn't change anything at this point.</p><p>Yeah, a nap sounded really good right now.</p><p>-</p><p>“Keep the armor off. I want to see how you do without the advantage.”</p><p>“Do you expect me to enter a fight without it?” Luna dabbed her towel along her neck, running it down shoulders that were, up until the current reprieve, protected by pauldrons and leather. Admittedly, she wasn’t looking forward to putting them back on, not with the heat wave Tenebrae was currently overtaken by.</p><p>Similarly desperate to cool off, Ravus took a long swing of water before placing it back in his bag, producing an unopened one for her.</p><p>“I do. If Niflheim had their way, they’d arrive at our doorsteps while you were in a pencil skirt. Far more prudent to have you train in one of those, really.”</p><p>“They won’t make it that far,” she tugged the water from his hand, unscrewing the cap, “we just need to hold out a bit longer. Noctis said he would help.”</p><p>“Going to give a speech, is he?”</p><p>“Ravus,” she held herself back, trying to press the insult she felt on Noctis’ behalf into just the expression she gave her brother. It wasn’t personal, what he was saying. Niflheim was the culprit behind his words, their occupation of the southern territory that spent the last few months as a hotbed of fighting and daemonic presence. She knew he was itching to return the frontline, and not simply play the strategist from the safety of Fenestala.</p><p>He had gone quiet, but she could tell by the distant look on his face, the way he clasped his hands in front of him, that he was preparing his next words carefully. Searching for the right amount of flourish to emphasize his point.</p><p>“Our reliance on foreign aid displays the strength of Tenebrae’s relationship with Lucis, yet we are expected to go weeks without hearing from the allies we’ve reached out to for reinforcements. What are troops who call this land home to think when they are denied what could ultimately turn the tide, prevent Tenebrae from becoming another imperial conquest?”</p><p>“Practicing your speeches on me again?”</p><p>“Shut it.”</p><p>Luna laughed, the sound dissipating until Ravus brought it back with a snort. Thank goodness he was at least mildly self aware.</p><p>“You’re a good speaker, for what it’s worth,” she placed the bottle back in his bag, swapping it for her trident, the drops of water on her hands making her grip sticky, difficult to change hands with. “Our people should listen to you more, not just the military. You’d do well with domestic affairs too.”</p><p>“Were they to not turn to you each time I contributed.”</p><p>White hair clung and curled around his face, but Luna didn’t need to look close to hear the tension in his voice. Birthright was a point of frustration that only grew alongside them as Luna entered the realm of leading their people.</p><p>“I wish they wouldn’t,” she said, “becoming the oracle is going to be responsibility enough. I’ve healings to perfect, interpreting messages, never mind governing, or the crown. I hardly get any time for myself, all because somewhere down our line, someone thought it would be a great idea to have the oracle <em>also </em>take on the mantle of Queen. You’re the tactician, Ravus. For Shiva’s sake, you’ve a proper ranking in our army. They should listen to you.”</p><p>The hands in Ravus’ lap tightened into fists, the anger radiating off of him despite his effort to contain it. Maybe it was too much, to lament the expectations put upon her when he was the one who was being ignored. Her words must have made it sound like she was talking over him.</p><p>Ravus said nothing, simply stood and took his sword up with him, testing his grip as he curled the hilt in his hand. Luna drummed her fingers on the bench, but didn’t linger long before joining him in the walk back out to the field. There wouldn't be any point in pressing the conversation further when her brother so clearly wanted to return to the training at hand. Twirling her own weapon loosely between her fingers, she found her starting point, facing Ravus. Then, she positioned her trident, giving a warning thrust towards him, enough distance between them that no harm could occur from the taunt.</p><p>No attempt was made on his part to step back, merely a raise of his eyebrow before he came towards her, swinging upwards. Aware of the closing space between them, she ducked forward, successfully dodging the strike. It was a tactic he got away with when they were younger, a way to trick her into catching her prongs on the blade. When she was first starting out, she would take the bait, and lose her balance and weapon for it.</p><p>She lodged the back of the trident behind her as Ravus turned, catching his chest and receiving a grunt in return. While he recovered she traded her hands, momentarily wielding the trident backwards before flipping the prongs towards his face once more, but Ravus was quick to separate himself from the range of contact.</p><p>Now recovered, he held his ground, challenging her to make the next lunge. Luna moved sideways, keeping her feet at the ready to jump back when he inevitably attacked. She allowed the stalemate to linger, waiting for an opportunity to trip him up.</p><p>Luck wasn’t on her side that day. Ravus feigned left, and she took it to be true, only for him to reverse directions, paying her back for the first hit and striking her shoulder.</p><p>“That’s a clean cut. You lost your arm.”</p><p>“Ugh,” the throb of bruising muscle shot across her arm as she stumbled back, searching for an opportunity to fight, but found herself stepping backwards into the shade, signaling the end of the training grounds. She was being cornered.</p><p>She ran for it, and Ravus gave chase. Forward, then to the right, she attempted to circle him until she passed his side, finally rushing to spear her trident in his back.</p><p>Ravus ducked, and struck his blade against her knee, toppling her.</p><p>“And a leg. You need to become more dexterous when you see an attack.”</p><p>Luna rolled onto her side, irate and the obvious suggestion.</p><p>“It’s not my fault my opposing combatant has proper military experience,” she muttered.</p><p>“All your future-“</p><p>“Niflheim will all be trained similarly,” she cut off, digging her hands into the dirt and pushing up off the ground, “I know, Ravus. Now teach me how to actually defeat them.”</p><p>-</p><p>Evening, a uniquely early end time for Regis’ day. Though the last of the sun was about faded from the sky, it was still bright enough to count for him. It was a benefit of the direction that afternoon’s meeting took. He only had to weigh the course of each action before motioning his favor. The details would be decided, if things worked out, by Noctis.</p><p>Admittedly, he wasn’t as certain as he voiced himself to be in Lucis’ ability to provide the entirety of what Sylva asked for. He wanted to support Noctis, regardless of what any opposition had to say, but he also couldn't deny that they were running short on troops, deploying faster than they could be sufficiently trained. Decades of tepid, unofficial “peace” with Niflheim hardly inspired the amount of recruitment necessary for a surge in enemy encroachment. They were always prepared for an army of soldiers.</p><p>But never for monsters domineering their battlefields.</p><p>An evening off. Something to make use of.</p><p>Clarus was excused once he was finished waking up his knee, his joints upset at movement and stillness alike. He was glad to have a companion most days, but at present found himself in need to devote himself to a moment alone. Many weights were still trying to chain him to his desk – the daemons Niflheim was dropping on both Lucis and Tenebrae, the files in the drawer, reminding him that his council still didn’t take Noctis seriously as an heir.</p><p>But gods among them, they needed to.</p><p>The anguish Clarus expressed that afternoon, repeating itself in his mind as Regis picked up his cane for the walk to the elevator, was engrained in a discomforting reality he often ignored. That there was a time limit for Noctis to prove himself, to learn to trust his ability to make the right call and lead, rather than try to sink into his seat. He would inherit Regis’ rank frightfully soon.</p><p>Astrals, he wouldn't even see his son reach thirty.</p><p>No Caelum lived that long, not with the Ring of the Lucii on their finger. The wall alone sucked years off his life, and the power lent to the Kingsglaive only sped up the process. That was an undertaking he couldn't imagine for Noctis.</p><p>Regis walked, hating the way he limped along with the cane that was never meant to be a permanent fixture in his life. Another problem for his son’s future. How would the crystal manifest its collected debt on Noctis once he began to captain its power? His fate was an eminent one, but would his body be targeted prior to what was prophesized? Would it be his hands? His back, already damaged years ago? His mind, as it had been with Mors?</p><p>There had to be more that he could do to prepare him. Noctis was still only a teenager, anxious enough with all that came with adolescence on top of the crown. Additional responsibilities weren’t the thing to inspire confidence in him.</p><p>It took a minute for the elevator to arrive when Regis reached it, but that was a good thing. It meant Noctis had used it prior, likely leaving it at the top of the citadel, which meant it would be easier to surmise where he could be found.</p><p>Noctis being taken seriously wasn't all he was after. As the doors shut and he was shuttled to the royal apartment, Regis thought of the volume of space between the two of them. He’d done his best to bond in whatever capacity was available. Quality time, when he was afforded it, though both their schedules conflated so often that any freedom either of them had was spent out of each other’s company. This meant anything they did together always had to be focused. On building Noctis’ leadership, on ensuring he knew the ins and outs of government, on public speaking, even now they struggled so much with public speaking.</p><p>Couldn't they just have a moment to be a father and a son? Couldn’t he just use the time to show Noctis how much he loved him?</p><p>The hum of the elevator ceased and the doors opened out to the entrance hall of the apartment.</p><p>Noctis was far from the adjoining room he slept in as a child, having asked to be moved to a new one when he was only nine. The one Regis picked one nearby didn’t last, with another move to the opposite end of the apartment occurring when Noctis asked for it at thirteen. Each request granted to Regis’ reluctance, wishing to keep him close, if only by proximity.</p><p>Not to mention, his knee disagreed with the added distance, bemoaning each step taken to his son’s chambers. He pushed onward, mentally rehearsing his proposal in his head until arriving at his destination.</p><p>The small greeting room was deserted, though Regis expected that due to the rarity with which Noctis received guests. It was far more likely that he’d be in the main living area, or, if he were tired, the bedroom. He slept so much these days.</p><p>Too much.</p><p>He wouldn’t have to check the bedroom though, as the sound of gameplay reached him before he could touch the door to the living room.</p><p>“Noctis,” he called, rapping on the door. The music paused, and Regis took it as permission to enter.</p><p>It was difficult to see in the space, the curtains drawn so the only source of light was the high tone of the television, large and sharp and a pain to adjust to.</p><p>“I thought I might have a word with you,” Noctis appeared from behind the chair he was slouching in, significantly dressed down from earlier. The fitted suit had been discarded and replaced with a fresh long sleeve tee, and a matching black pair of well worn sweatpants. Only the dress socks remained, an odd stand out in the ensemble.</p><p>The aforementioned sweats found Noctis’ hands crammed into their pockets as he stood, pushing downward and fidgeting beneath the fabric.</p><p>“You’ve been doing well these past weeks,” he ventured, watching for some reaction or emotion as Noctis stared blankly at him.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>“It heartens me to see you’re still able to make time for your games,” he nodded in the tv’s direction, “I’m certain your tutors don’t allow for much to be left over.”</p><p>“Ye-“, Noctis’ mouth barely opened before stopping, and shrugging instead. Was it because he chose something so normal to talk about? He’d heard of children embarrassed by their parents’ efforts to share in their hobbies.</p><p>“I hope you’re coming along in this one. Which is it?”</p><p>Noctis mumbled to the floor.</p><p>“Assassin’s Creed.”</p><p>“That’s the historical one, isn’t it?” at last, something he could grasp at. Regis’ voice brightened. “I heard it’s well researched. The architecture, the clothes. There’s some Solheimr language in it, isn’t there?”</p><p>“Mhmm.”</p><p>His son, the conversationalist. Regis cleared his throat, deciding it best to get to the purpose of his visit.</p><p>“I came by, because I thought I might request occupancy of any other time you may be able to spare. Not now, of course,” he indicated to the tv again,</p><p>“But I thought we should have some time together. There’s plenty I hope to teach you myself, and now seems like a good time to do so. I’ve heard you’re still struggling to make use of your magic.”</p><p>Noctis ducked his head down, flushing so quickly that Regis nearly stumbled over his own words to assure him that it wasn’t an issue. Yes, Noctis lagged far behind any other heir before him, but it was to no fault of his own. According to his doctors, it had to do with his spinal injury as a child, though Regis would be damned if he could discern the connection between that and the crystal’s magic.</p><p>“Do you have any free time tomorrow morning? Believe it or not, I’ve been given a few hours,” he smiled to himself, knowing he’d look forward to it regardless of whether he’d be able to spend it with Noctis. “Though, I’m certain both of us would prefer the opportunity to sleep in.”</p><p>That was almost a smile! Fleeting, hidden, but Regis just caught a glimpse, his chest swelling at the sight of having said <em>something</em> right to his son.</p><p>“I’d love to spend the time with you,” he offered, waiting, hopeful.</p><p>Noctis kept his eyes on his feet, head still bent so all Regis could see was his lips, the tip of his nose framed by bits of bangs.</p><p>“Okay.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for the wait everyone, the break is over and you can now look forward to the regularly scheduled monthly updates.</p><p>I really appriciate everyone whose been reading, it's been nearly a year since I've posted the first chapter and I'm still, truly, utterly, floored by the positive feedback. We're starting to get into the thick of things now, and I hope that you'll all continue to enjoy the road ahead.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments fuel me, even if its just a sentence. Thanks!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>